


The Long Way Home

by Kleineganz



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood Magic, Danarius being an Asshole, Danarius is disgusting, Escape, Eventual Fluff, Fan Art, Fluff and Smut, Inquisitor Hawke, Kidnapping, M/M, Nudity, Rape, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Slow Burn, The Slowest Burn I've Ever Written, Torture, Wrongful Imprisonment, blood sacrifice, brief mention of an underage slave, lust demons are rapey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:46:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 31
Words: 71,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8714503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleineganz/pseuds/Kleineganz
Summary: Anders and Fenris always bickered. Loudly. They had been at it for years and it was such a common sight that no one ever really thought much of it. One group of slavers did take note, hoping that the mage would be the answer to their problems.





	1. The Offer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for NaNoWriMo this year, one chapter each day. That's why there's going to be exactly 30 chapters. I will post one chapter every day in December. This is sort of my gift to all my Dragon Age readers.
> 
> Note: I will mark chapters containing explicit rape scenes with an (*) for anyone who needs to skip. Most of that part of the story is in the first third. After that, the story will be safe to read without worry about anything even resembling non-con. Also to differentiate rape and explicit consensual sex scenes, some chapters will be marked with (+) when it's consensual, but still explicit.
> 
> TL;DR:
> 
> (*) = explicit rape scene  
> (+) = explicit consesual sex

**Late 9:36 Dragon.**

Autumn is waning and winter was soon to begin in the city of Kirkwall. A group of companions is making their way through Lowtown. Two of them are once again bickering.

_“You should have lived in Tevinter. You'd be happier there,” Fenris grumbled at Anders after the mage had begun to yet again complain about the plight of mages._

_“You're probably right,” Anders agreed._

_“There, your magic would be a mark of honor. Apprenticed to the right Magister, you would do well,” Fenris explained._

_“Is there a down side?” Anders responded sarcastically._

_“Only if you're bothered by owning a few slaves and performing the occasional blood ritual,” Fenris said._

_“So, they all do those things?” Anders pressed._

_“Just the ones who don't complain about how powerless and persecuted they are,” the elf replied._

“Alright, enough, both of you,” Hawke said in exasperation.

After that the group continued through Lowtown in silence, unaware of the eyes watching them from above.

***

“I’m telling you the mage is the key!” exclaimed Atronis. “We observed him bickering with the escaped slave again today. He holds no love for the impudent elf, that much I am certain!”

“Are you sure he will help us trap the elf?” Cassius asked from across the table. “They all seem pretty chummy with that Champion of Kirkwall fella. Why would the mage betray one of his acquaintances?”

“I heard that the mage has had his eye on the Champion years now,” Florian interjected. “It’s said he fancies him, but the Champion only has eyes for that damnable elf.”

“I thought the elf rejected the Champion’s advances?” Marius asked. “Something to do with not wanting to fraternize with another mage?”

“Well, none of that is relevant. Neither of them is shacking up with the Champion,” Atronis shrugged. “All I’m certain of is that the mage is the key to finally capturing Fenris.”

“What if he doesn’t cooperate?” Florian queried. “He’ll tip off the Champion for sure. Every other gang of slavers that has gone after the elf has wound up dead, and I’m not risking my life on a half-baked plan.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Atronis assured him with a wink. “I have a back-up plan and a few surprises for the mage if he decides not to co-operate.”

***

Anders sighed as he folded his hand. Again. “I don’t know why I bother to play Wicked Grace with you lot. All you do is divest me of the coins my clinic so desperately needs.”

“You know I always hook you up with supplies if you need them Blondie,” Varric soothed the mage. “Just write me a list before you leave and I’ll make sure you get stocked up again.” The Dwarf grabbed some paper and a pen with ink and handed them to Anders.

Anders quirked a half-smile. “Thanks Varric.” Anders began to make a short list of supplies he knew the clinic needed.

“Don’t thank me,” Varric shrugged. “What you and Lirene do for the folks in Darktown is an invaluable service. We should all be thanking you.”

Fenris began to grumble something about abominations and Hawke glared at the elf. “Not now, Fenris. We’re here to have fun, not start another argument.”

Fenris glared at Anders for a moment before folding his hand and heading back to the bar for another bottle of wine. Anders watched the elf leave with an almost wistful look.

“Has the last round of that nasty illness in Darktown cleared up?” Isabella asked.

Anders refocused his attention and nodded. “Healed the last case yesterday. This was a nasty one too. It spread more quickly than normal and we almost couldn’t keep up with all the new cases.”

“That probably explains why you look so haggard,” Varric said. “You really need to start taking better care of yourself, Blondie.”

“Well if Hawke would quit dragging me along on these insane missions right after I finally get a break,” Anders grumped light-heartedly.

“You’re always welcome to say no,” Hawke shrugged. “Yet you never do. It’s almost like you have a thing for me or something,” Hawke teased.

Anders blushed at that. It wasn’t far from the truth, although it wasn’t necessarily the Champion that held his attention these days.

“Oh, stop teasing him Garrett,” Merrill admonished. “You know perfectly well Anders likes you. We all do. It’s not fair to exploit that so much.”

“Yes, _Daisy_ ,” Garrett apologized. “I’m sorry Anders. I’ll make sure you’re better rested before I ask you out on a mission again.”

“Speaking of,” Anders said as he stood. “I should go home and try and get some rest before the next round of patients arrive at the clinic.”

“Who wants to walk Blondie home?” Varric asked just as Fenris returned, his usual scowl reappearing after Anders caught the elf looking at him.

“Leaving so soon, _abomination_?” Fenris practically sneered.

“Yes, Ser Grumpy Elf,” Anders replied. “I take my leave so you can enjoy the rest of the evening with our companions without having to deal with me.”

Anders made his way to the door of Varric’s suite. “Don’t worry about me Varric. I can walk home by myself. Remember, I’m never entirely alone.”

“Just be careful Anders,” Hawke called after him as Anders turned to leave. “You know the streets are filled with gangs of brigands after dark.”

“Don’t worry, Justice and I can handle ourselves,” Anders called back with a wink before walking out of the door and down the stairs, hearing an angry huff from Fenris as he retreated.

Anders waved goodnight to Corff as he made his way out of the Hanged Man and into the darkened streets of Kirkwall. Anders clutched his staff, using it as a walking stick, affecting a shuffling gait that he would use when he walked the streets alone. People usually didn’t accuse a lame man with a walking staff of being an apostate. _Usually_.

As Anders approached the lift towards Darktown he felt an uneasy shiver pass through him. He felt as if he was being followed and Justice came on high alert inside of him. At first, Anders tried to shake off the feeling, assuming that it was probably Isabella who was trailing him to make sure he got home safely.

Anders stopped after he heard the scrape of a boot. “Alright Izzy, you can come out,” Anders called out. When no reply came, he began to shuffle more quickly towards the lift.

Once he was in the lift and moving down into Darktown, he felt his anxiety fade a bit as he let out a sigh of relief.

Anders wasn’t sure who had been following him. It couldn’t have been Templars. Their armor was far too loud and clanky to go unnoticed. If they had been brigands or slavers, why hadn’t they just attacked like they normally did? Anders felt safer how that he was back in the familiar surroundings of Darktown, but he still felt uneasy.

Anders took his time walking back to his clinic, greeting the residents along his way, and ducking in to check on a few of his patients who he had recently sent home to rest after treating them at his clinic.

***

Anders ran into Lirene along the way and told her about Varric’s continued generosity. “I’ll be sure to thank the dear man when I see him again,” Lirene said. “I honestly don’t know how we would have been able to continue without the generosity from him and the Champion.”

“They have become good friends,” Anders agreed. “I still remember being so wary of them when they first barged into my clinic, but I’m grateful now that you decided to trust them.”

“I just had a feeling about them, especially that Hawke fellow,” Lirene shrugged. “I wasn’t entirely sure but I had a feeling he was a mage. It still is amazing how he’s able to roam so freely right under the Templars noses!”

Anders chuckled. “I swear he tries to rub their noses in it deliberately and they keep pretending not to notice. I’m not entirely sure I know how he gets away with it.”

“Neither do I, but I am always grateful for his efforts,” Anders shrugged. “I’m going to try and get some sleep now. Would you mind opening the clinic for me in the morning, and I’ll come out once I’ve had some proper sleep?”

“Of course, dear,” Lirene said. “You really should take better care of yourself.”

“I know,” Anders agreed. “Now if you could just convince Justice of that…”

Lirene nodded at him knowingly and they parted ways.

***

As Anders walked the rest of the way to his clinic and home, he was having an internal argument with Justice, who was trying to convince Anders to stay up and work on his Manifesto again. He had been so distracted by the internal argument he hadn’t noticed that the latch on his clinic door was loose and the lock had been pried off.

When Anders reached out to open the lock, he startled and tried to back away from the door, and that’s when he realized he was now surrounded by several large men. The mage already began to channel his magic in self-defense when the men held up their hands.

“Look mate,” one of them spoke. “We don’t want to fight. We want to talk. We have a proposal for you.”

Anders looked wary. “What could you possibly want to _discuss_ in the middle of the night?”

“Let’s go inside, and we’ll tell you,” the same man replied. “Please.”

Justice did not like this one bit, but Anders kept him in check. _For now_.

Anders turned and entered his clinic, followed by the men. Inside there were several more. At least a dozen from what Anders could tell, some lurking in the shadows. One man stood in the center of the room, and looked to be in charge.

“Greetings, I am Atronis,” the man said, introducing himself. “I take it you are the healer, Anders?”

“Yes, I am,” Anders replied. “Are you in need of a healer?”

Atronis chuckled darkly. “Perhaps but not quite in the way you think,” the man started to explain. “We’re here to try and mend fences, as it were, between a master and his runaway slave.”

Anders shook his head in confusion at that. “Slave?”

“We know you are acquainted with him,” Atronis claimed. “He goes by the name of Fenris. He was once Magister Danarius’ fierce little wolf.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Anders asked.

“Well you see,” Atronis continued. “We know for a fact that you and the elf dislike each other. We thought we could do each other a favor. You help us trap the little bitch and we’ll take him off your hands. We’ll even give you a generous reward for helping us out. Say…fifty gold?”

Anders eyes shot up at the obscene amount of coin he was just offered. Obscene because it was at the cost of someone’s life.

“So you expect me to help you capture Fenris, for fifty gold?” Anders asked for clarification.

“Yes, that’s exactly what we expect,” Atronis confirmed. “So, will you help us?”

Anders stepped back from the slaver, feeling the rage of Justice inside him grow, as he tried to contemplate his next move.


	2. The Refusal (*)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders refuses the slavers offer. The slavers have a surprise alternative...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains an explicit scene of rape, hence why it's been marked with a (*). The scene happens later in the chapter and it will be pretty obvious in context as to when it will happen, so read with caution.

**Late 9:36 Dragon.**

“I will tell you exactly what I think of your disgusting offer,” Anders said with a growl, just as he began to unleash Justice, his skin and eyes crackling blue with the energy of the Fade spirit within him.

Atronis had already backed away, but the slavers closest to Justice took the brunt of his wrath, as they crumped into burning husks onto the clinic floor.

“THERE IS NO JUSTICE IN SLAVERY!” the spirit bellowed as he crouched into a defensive stance, waiting for the others to try and strike him down.

Atronis walked confidently in front of the possessed mage. “I was afraid you might refuse. You abominations are far too predictable.”

Not being attacked threw off Justice’s guard and he cocked his head at the slaver in confusion.

“WHY WOULD YOU ASK IF YOU KNEW OUR RESPONSE?” Justice queried, still in a wary stance.

“Simple. If Anders truly did hate the elf as much as he seems to let on, we could have helped each other with a common problem,” Atronis shrugged. “However, now the mage will just have to help us in another way.”

“WE WILL NEVER HELP YOU!” Justice roared, starting to conjure a fireball when all of a sudden Justice jerked and the spirit faded while Anders fell to his knees, grasping at his neck. Anders pulled out what looked like a dart, that had clearly been poisoned with magebane.

“Hold him down boys,” Atronis instructed and two of the larger slavers grasped Anders by his arms, keeping him in an upright kneel, with his arms spread wide. Anders struggled, while Justice seemed disoriented, the magebane hadn’t been enough to completely seal off Anders from all his magic as he tried to release an electricity spell.

“Marius, take him out!” Atronis commanded. Before Anders could fully conjure the spell, he was practically thrown backwards by a powerful Holy Smite. Only the two men holding the mage down kept him from flying backwards. Clearly this Marius had some Southern Templar training in the past.

“Florian, bring the collar, now!” Atronis demanded.

Florian and Marius hefted the large cowl shaped collar, hung heavy with chains, and placed it over Anders head and settled it on his neck. Anders had been stunned but he began to struggle anew when he saw the collar. It was the collar of a Saarebas. Anders eyes were wide with fear as it was placed on him and once it was completely locked into place, Anders felt his entire connection to the Fade, and Justice, cut off.

“NO!” Anders cried. “Get this off me! You have no right!”

Atronis laughed. “We’re slavers. If you hadn’t heard, we don’t particularly care about rights. We take what we want and for being so uncooperative, we’ve decided to take you. Come on men, let’s get him on the ship and we’ll see if Magister Danarius can make this abomination a little more cooperative.”

Atronis walked ahead and Anders was being forcefully dragged by the two men. Surely they wouldn’t just drag the healer through Darktown without facing some opposition, but the slavers were clever. They had a found an access point to the sewers close to the clinic and quickly were dragging Anders through the sewers towards the docks.

Anders continued to try and kick and struggle but it was no use. Without his magic Anders was relatively weak, and with the lack of proper rest and nutrition that Anders had been subjecting himself to lately, he was even weaker than usual. Finally, he tired and let them drag him, his boots becoming hopelessly scuffed.

It felt like they had taken a long, circuitous route but they finally emerged at the docks, apparently, right by the ship commandeered by the slavers.

“I will make sure we start to get underway,” Atronis announced. “Take him below and prepare him.”

The men holding Anders grunted their acknowledgment before dragging Anders down into the hold of the ship. In the back, down a long corridor, was a room that clearly had seen much use in the past, if the blood stains were any indication. Anders shuddered in terror as to what might happen next.

They dragged Anders over to where there were manacles hanging from the ceiling. They shackled the mage’s wrists one at a time, so that his arms were spread wide above his head. Next they proceeded to use knives to cut every strip of clothing from his body, until he hung there completely nude except for the Saarebas collar, the chains from it now cold against Anders’ naked skin. Anders bemoaned the destruction of his favorite coat. He’d had it for years and to see it cut to shreds like that broke his heart.

“You reek like the sewer rat that you are,” one of the slavers growled just before they began throwing several buckets of cold water over him, leaving the mage shivering. Then they doused the lanterns in the hold and headed topside to assist with the ship’s departure, leaving Anders in the dark.

It was then, in the dark of the hold, still shivering from the cold water dripping from his nude body, that Anders finally started to panic. He could hear as the ship was released from its moorings, and slowly left the Kirkwall docks.

Anders had held out some vague hope that Hawke or Varric would come to check on him. That upon finding the destruction and remains of the slavers Justice had killed they would come looking for him. Now he knew they would be too late. Clearly, they’d be far enough out to sea by the time they discovered he was gone.

Anders tried to calm his breathing when a thought occurred to him. He found himself in this position because he would not betray Fenris, but would the elf have given him the same consideration? If the Templars had approached Fenris and asked for his help to catch the _abomination_ , would he have been so quick to deny them?

Yet when Anders thought about it, Fenris had many opportunities to betray him or Hawke to the Templars over the years and he never had. If Fenris really hated him as much as he kept saying, why wouldn’t he rid himself of this abomination?

Despite how much vitriol was between then, Anders had some begrudging respect for the elf. The former slave had remained free for years after running from his master. Anders admired that because it had taken him seven attempts of running from the Circle before he finally gained his freedom. Even then, he hadn’t been truly free, first pressed into service by the Grey Wardens, and then by Justice.

Anders arms were already beginning to ache and the manacles dug into his thin wrists. He began to wonder how long they were going to leave him hanging there. He hoped it wouldn’t be the entire trip. The ship began to sway regularly as it entered the open seas, Anders was gently rocked in his restraints and despite his current state, his exhaustion finally got the better of him and he slipped into unconsciousness.

***

Anders was awakened by another bucket of cold water. He sputtered and opened his eyes to see only Atronis before him.

“Good morning, sleep well?” the slaver mocked.

Anders just glared at his captor.

“We will be at sea for several weeks,” Atronis informed Anders. “During that time you will learn what it means to be a slave of the Imperium. When we present you to Magister Danarius, you will show him the proper respect as befits someone of your new station.”

“I will never be a slave,” Anders growled. “The Templars couldn’t break me, what makes you think that you can?”

Atronis laughed. “The Templars? They are overgrown babysitters. They know nothing of how to break a man. In Tevinter, we have perfected the art.”

Anders shuddered at the confident tone from the slaver.

“You will learn your place, pretty mage,” Atronis said as he walked closer to Anders and tilted the mage’s chin up with just a finger. “That I guarantee.”

Atronis circled Anders, touching him here and there, stroking a finger and then a whole hand over his cold skin. “I will keep it simple for you. You will remain respectful. During this journey, you will refer to me as Master and the members of the crew as Sir. If you do not, you will be punished. You will service the crew without complaint, at any time of day or night. If you do not, you will be punished. That will be your life until we reach Minrathous. Then your fate will be up to Magister Danarius.”

Anders trembled as Atronis’ hand slipped down between Anders’ cheeks, finger slowly probing over his anus.

“No,” Anders pleaded. “Please, don’t.”

“There is your first mistake,” Atronis growled. “You think you can still beg me to stop. Maybe one day you’ll be begging me to continue. However, none of that matters anymore. You are a slave. Your body, your wants, your desires, your hopes and your dreams, none of them matter. For now, you belong to me and my crew and you will exist only for our pleasure. You are nothing and no one now.”

Anders felt hot tears slide down his cheeks as he began to truly understand not only the hopelessness of his situation, but the reality of what life had been like for Fenris. Anders was beginning to realize that life in the Circle may have been a stifling prison, but it did not compare to this.

Atronis continued massaging Anders anus with his dry finger before plunging it in roughly, making Anders cry out.

“Now you can make this easy on yourself, or you can make it hard,” Atronis purred as he plunged his dry finger in and out of the mage’s hole, causing Anders to whimper with discomfort.

“I will give you a choice,” Atronis continued. “If you call me Master, I will use oil and not damage you, too much. If you do not, I will take you dry. As a healer I’m sure you understand how much damage that could potentially do.”

Anders whimpered again as Atronis shoved his finger in roughly.

“Before you decide, keep in mind, after I take my pleasure,” Atronis explained. “My men will each take their turn as well. You will be the ship’s whore while we are at sea and we will not allow you to heal yourself. So, think very carefully how you want me to take you. Make no mistake, I will take you. You have no choice in that.”

Anders’ heart was thumping. He wanted to be defiant, to take the damage and the pain, to be strong. However, without Justice to help bolster his confidence, all he could think about was how much the next few weeks would hurt if he didn’t give in. Right now, he was stuck on a ship, locked into a Saarebas collar and chained to the ceiling of the hold. There was no possibility of escape.

So, Anders chose self-preservation. “Please, use the…oil…M..master,” Anders mumbled as he hung his head in shame.

Atronis chuckled. “A wise choice, pretty mage.”

The slaver removed his dry finger and he retrieved the promised oil. The next time the slaver’s finger breached Anders opening, it slid in smoothly and Anders almost sighed with relief. Once Atronis was satisfied that there was enough oil applied to the mage’s anus, he withdrew his finger and Anders could hear the man undo his belt, open his breeches, and slick up his cock.

“As a slave, you do not get the privilege of being prepared beforehand,” Atronis continued to explain. “You will be opened up by whichever cock wishes to fuck you. Some will open you slow, others will open you fast and rough. With oil to ease the way the damage should remain minimal, but I cannot promise that there will be no damage. Just not at the level you might otherwise have suffered.”

The next thing Anders felt were Atronis’ hands on his hips as the man pulled his hips back and slowly sank his cock into the mage. “You’re lucky I prefer to open my bitches slow,” Atronis breathed into Anders’ ear.

Anders closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, trying not to whimper too much throughout the ordeal as his captor raped him, pounding his ass hard and fast once he’d bottomed out. Anders lost track of time when the slaver finally came with a grunt, filling Anders with his seed. Anders shuddered as he felt it run down his legs as Atronis pulled himself free.

“Now that,” Atronis said with a smile. “Was the perfect way to start the day.”

“Yes, Master,” Anders said, trying his best to sound defeated.

“Good boy,” Atronis said, sounding proud. “For that, I will give you one more choice. It will be the last choice you ever get, so remember to choose wisely.”

Anders nodded.

“I can keep you hanging here for the duration of the trip. It will be hell on your arms and I’m sure your wrists will be raw to the bone long before we reach Minrathous,” Atronis informed. “Or I can put you in our whore’s cabin, chained to the bed of course, but instead of heavy manacles, you will get soft leather cuffs instead. Choose.”

Anders took a breath. “I’ll choose the…whore’s bed, Master.”

“Excellent!” Atronis smiled again. “You’re already becoming much more cooperative. That bodes well for your future, slave. I will send someone down to unchain you and clean you up before taking you to your new quarters.”

As he was left alone again, feeling the slaver’s semen still seeping out of him and sliding down his thighs, Anders kept telling himself this was all about self-preservation until they were back on land. If he was compliant and willing, he wouldn’t be injured too much and then he could attempt an escape once he was once again on solid ground.

He just had to bide his time until then.


	3. Sold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The slave ship arrives in Minrathous and Anders finds himself sold into slavery.

**Late 9:36 Dragon.**

Atronis withdrew his cock from Anders after once again taking the mage. “You really have been an excellent whore,” Atronis praised, slapping Anders upturned ass hard enough to leave a red hand print on the pale flesh. “I’m going to miss these morning fucks.”

Anders looked back at his captor with a questioning look.

“We’re docking in Minrathous today, slave,” Atronis explained. “I’ll be presenting you to Magister Danarius this afternoon, personally. You better be on your best behavior.”

Anders nodded mutely.

“Now, be a good whore and wash up for me. We can’t have you in this disheveled state,” Atronis instructed as he finished putting his clothes back on.

Once the slaver had left Anders’ quarters, the mage took a moment to breathe. They had finally made it to Minrathous. Anders wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or terrified. He knew he had to make an escape attempt at the earliest opportunity. If he could get this damnable Saarebas collar off, and show the people in Tevinter that he was a powerful spirit healer, surely they wouldn’t allow him to remain a slave.

Fenris had always suggested that he might be happy apprenticing with a Magister, and perhaps he could even become a Magister himself one day. Perhaps he could even apprentice with Danarius? Surely the Magister wouldn’t keep him a slave if he knew Anders’ magical skill.

With happier thoughts in his head, he went to his wash basin and cleaned himself as thoroughly as possible and then knelt on his bed to wait for Atronis to finally unshackle the leather cuffs on his wrists and take him off this ship.

***

As it turned out, Atronis kept him in the leather cuffs. The mage was unchained from the bed and then had his hands cuffed together behind his back instead, and a heavy chain leash was attached to his collar. “I know you’ve dreamt of escaping as soon as we got back on land,” Atronis informed the mage. “I did quite a bit of checking into your background before we approached you. I know of all your escape attempts from the Ferelden Circle, your time with the Grey Wardens, how you became possessed by a _spirit of Justice_ , all of it.”

Anders’ tried to look disappointed and allowed himself to be led, still completely naked, off the ship. Anders noticed the other slaves around him right away. Most were elves, and most were naked as well. A few had their modesty covered by threadbare loin cloths.

Atronis mounted a steed that had been prepared for him and Anders’ leash was attached to the rear of the horse’s saddle. “You will follow along on foot. I promise to keep the gait measured so you can keep up, but don’t think for a moment I won’t just drag you through the streets if you refuse to follow.”

“Yes, Master,” Anders intoned as he began to walk behind the horse.

Despite the slow pace, Anders was sweating profusely while they made their way through the streets of Minrathous. The climate here was decidedly warmer and the sun was hot on Anders’ naked skin. He was sure he’d be sunburnt from head to toe before long.

Miraculously Anders hadn’t stumbled once and they finally arrived at Danarius’ estate about an hour or so later. Atronis announced himself and asked if his slave could be washed before being presented to Danarius.

Anders was escorted by several slaves back to the slave quarters and into a small bathing area. The elven slaves quickly proceeded to start washing him down with cool water and soap and Anders had to admit that it felt good on his heated skin. It certainly felt much better than the cold water he’d first been doused with on the ship back in Kirkwall.

Anders tried to talk to the slaves that were washing him but either they did not speak the common tongue, or they were not allowed to speak. After his third attempt, one of the male slaves put his fingers over Anders’ lips and shook his head in admonishment. Anders sighed and gave up. He wasn’t going to get any help to escape here.

Once he was washed and dried, Anders was brought back out to the waiting area with Atronis, where he was told to kneel on a pillow and remain still.

They remained like that for nearly two hours. The household slaves brought water to Atronis, who occasionally let Anders have a sip, but otherwise they just waited. Finally, a slave came to fetch them. “Master Danarius will see you now.”

“It’s about bloody time,” Atronis grumbled in common and Anders couldn’t help but smirk as he walked behind the slaver.

They were led into a large audience chamber, with a man sitting on what looked very much like a throne upon a dais, at the far end. Anders realized the man must be Danarius, Fenris’ former master. The man had a very cruel look upon up, his face already wrenched into a scowl. His hair and beard were graying, and it was clear his better years were behind him. He had a young elven slave boy kneeling at his feet. The boy had very white hair, like Fenris’, but he lacked the lyrium markings. The boy couldn’t have been much older than twelve or thirteen and Anders shuddered in disgust at the thought of what the boy’s duties probably entailed.

When Atronis stopped, and bowed in front of Danarius, he pulled down on Anders’ leash, forcing him to kneel on the hard marble floor.

“Magister Danarius,” Atronis addressed the Magister in the common tongue. “I have returned from Kirkwall with a gift for you.”

“What is this? That isn’t Fenris!” Danarius replied, clearly not pleased with his _gift_.

“This slave was acquainted with Fenris in Kirkwall,” Atronis explained. “When Fenris proved to be elusive, we captured this him instead. We asked him to help us capture Fenris and when he refused I decided to bring him to you. I thought perhaps he would make an effective lure instead.”

Danarius pondered the slavers’ proposal. “I had been considering just such a strategy as other methods have seemed ineffective. As you know even my apprentice Hadriana failed to secure my property for me.”

Danarius looked at Anders directly then. “How well acquainted are you with my little wolf?”

Anders glared at the Magister for a moment. “We are both companions to the Champion of Kirkwall, Garrett Hawke,” Anders replied. He knew there was no point in lying since Atronis knew the truth. “Although we were no great friends. He and I disagreed on a great many things, especially on the freedom, or lack thereof, of Southern mages.”

“I see,” Danarius nodded his head. “So, my little wolf would see mages caged, much as he once was _and will be again_ …hmm and that so-called Champion has been thwarting my efforts to recapture my property. You may prove useful after all.”

Anders looked up defiantly at Danarius then. “There is nothing you can do to make me help you recapture Fenris.”

Danarius chuckled. “So says the slave kneeling before me.”

“I am not a slave. I’m a mage and I could prove useful in other ways.  Perhaps you might consider letting me take Hadriana’s place as your apprentice?” Anders suggested.

“My apologies Magister Danarius,” Atronis bowed. “I did not have adequate time to break this one yet. He has proven quite stubborn.”

“I can see that,” Danarius agreed. “I haven’t had a mage slave in a while. He could prove amusing if nothing else.”

Atronis nodded. “Yes, Magister Danarius. He is also possessed by a Fade spirit. A powerful one at that. The spirit killed several of my men before we could subdue him and place the collar around the mage’s neck.”

Danarius perked up at that. “I do enjoy a good challenge. Alright, I will take him off your hands, and see if he can prove useful or at the very least entertaining.”

“Excellent,” Atronis smiled.

“Please, Magister Danarius,” Anders pleaded. “I beg you, free me. I could be much more useful to you with my full powers. Let me show you. Please, you can’t keep me like this!”

Danarius leveled his gaze upon him. “That is the last time you will speak out of turn, slave. In my household, slaves only speak when asked a direct question. Otherwise, you are to remain silent, or I will make sure that you are.”

Anders sputtered in protest but before he could say another word, Danarius cast a spell on his vocal chords that prevented him from speaking. Anders slumped in defeat. Fenris was right, mages did not hesitate to enslave one of their own in Tevinter.

Danarius made a gesture and a slave appeared at his side. “Take this new slave to the training cells,” Danarius instructed. “Then see that Atronis is paid for his troubles.”

Anders was led away. He still couldn’t believe that he was just purchased as a slave. _By Fenris’ former master no less_. How mages could do this to each other, Anders could not begin to fathom.

After going down several long corridors and two flights of stairs, Anders was led into a room he did not like the look of. It was completely windowless, and there were several cages lining the walls. Some were occupied with slaves, all elven. In the center of the room was an odd-looking bench that seemed designed to keep a person restrained, possibly in a variety of different positions. Along the far wall hung many implements that all looked to be designed to bring pain.

Anders knew from Fenris that Danarius was sadistic, but the reality of just how much hadn’t ever come to his mind until now. Clearly, Danarius enjoyed literally torturing his slaves into submission.

Anders was pushed down onto his knees by the slave escorting him before he was summarily shoved into one of the cages and locked in. Anders hands were still cuffed behind his back and the size of the cage was so that he was forced to remain on his knees. A small bowl of water and another bowl of what looked like gruel was pushed into the cage before the other slave turned to leave.

Anders wanted to shout at the slave, to beg him to at least free his hands so he could eat and drink, but his voice was still muted. Anders then looked around the room and saw the other slaves were all similarly tied as he was and they bent over to lap at their water bowls like caged animals.

Just then the light in the room was doused and everything fell into pitch black darkness.

Anders opened his mouth and let out a silent scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Anders. Out of the frying pan and into the fire for our poor mage. Unfortunately, his troubles have only just begun...


	4. Punishment (*)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders refuses to break for Danarius and is forced to endure severe punishments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of graphic detail, this chapter is probably the worst, but I really wanted to show how despicable I think Danarius can be (I know how bad he is, but I needed to really set the tone). If you're easily triggered, go ahead and skip this one. 
> 
> TL;DR - Danarius is a sick, sadistic bastard who deserves what Fenris will eventually do to him. Also, poor Anders! :(

**Early 9:37 Dragon.**

Anders had now been a slave of Danarius for about three months. He thought of Fenris often throughout every ordeal that Danarius devised, remembering how strong the elf seemed despite all he must have endured. Anders took strength from those thoughts. If Danarius couldn’t break Fenris, then by the Maker, Anders wouldn’t let himself be broken either.

The only kindness that had been offered Anders was when one of the younger slaves, an elven boy named Cyriel, offered to teach him rudimentary Tevene. Anders was quite grateful for that and he picked up he language quickly. After three months he was almost fluent in the language.

***

Currently Anders was being punished. Again. He had dared to look Danarius straight in the eye, as if he thought he was some sort of _equal_. And then Anders had done the unthinkable. He spat. Right into Danarius’ face. For two seconds, he was proud of himself because the glob of spit he’d been working on hit Danarius right in his eye. His pride quickly drained when he remembered how cruelly Danarius punished his slaves.

That’s how Anders found himself strapped down onto the bench in the training room, while Danarius used his most cruel implement. It was a heavy flogger that had sharp metal spikes embedded in the leather. Each hit would flay open another portion of skin on Anders’ back, causing the mage to scream in agony.

Once the punishment was over, his back was doused with vinegar, ostensibly to _disinfect_ it before Danarius would finally begin to heal the wounds. The worst of it was that Danarius knew how to heal the wounds cleanly, while the pain remained for days afterwards.

“I do hope you’ve learned your lesson this time, abomination,” Danarius sneered. “Although I suspect not. No matter, I can still use you to lure your Champion and my little wolf out, whether or not you choose to cooperate.”

Anders was once again thrown into his cage, his back still in agonizing pain. He curled himself up into a ball once Danarius and his assistant had left, and as softly as possible cried himself to sleep.

***

A few weeks later, Danarius returned and walked over to Anders’ cage. “I have a special treat for you, abomination,” Danarius said, his voice of false glee. “I am hosting a very special function tomorrow night, and I have decided you will be the centerpiece.”

Anders just kept his head down and remained quiet. Defying Danarius hadn’t worked very well for him and so he decided for now to go back to quiet compliance until an opportunity to escape presented itself.

The next morning several slaves came and dragged Anders out of his cage and they took him to the slave baths to be washed. He was then heavily dosed with magebane so they could safely remove the Saarebas collar and clean the areas the collar normally covered. He’d been wearing it for months and he was chafed raw from it in places. That wouldn’t do for the party so a healer was brought in to close the wounds and then Anders was fitted with a smaller, more decorative collar. Unfortunately, the new collar apparently had the same effect as the Saarebas collar, keep him locked away from Justice and the Fade.

Then the slaves proceeded to remove all his body hair, except for the hair on his head and eye brows. His face was clean shaven, as were his chest, genitals, arms and legs. Next, he was fed one of the richest meals he’d had in a long time; a thick, meaty stew. It tasted like the best food he’d ever had after months of being fed nothing but gruel. Anders assumed it was so he could keep his strength up during the nights’ festivities. Finally, he was led to a small room with an actual bed and told to get some rest.

At first Anders thought to defy the order and remain awake, but the bed looked so comfortable and it had been months since he’d had a chance to get a proper night’s sleep. So he gave in and curled up on the bed and promptly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Several hours later Anders was awakened again and led out to where the party was to be held. The guests hadn’t arrived yet, but the centerpiece had to be prepared. Anders found himself bent over a special pedestal with his legs chained so they remained spread apart. His arms were bound behind his back and his head and neck were locked into place in such a way that his face had to look forward instead of down, which would put quite a crick into his neck before long.

They brushed out his long blond hair and secured it in pony tail behind his head. The hair had grown so long that the tail fell over his shoulder.

Anders then had a ring gag forced into his mouth. Anders guessed that it was so he couldn’t bite off any of the cocks that were most assuredly going to fuck him that night. Finally, someone worked Anders’ ass open with oil and a large glass plug was inserted.

When he was completely prepared, Danarius came out to inspect his centerpiece.

“You look quite lovely all trussed up like that, slave,” Danarius mocked. “I think my guests will be most pleased with you. None of them have ever had the opportunity to fuck an abomination before, especially one so pretty.”

***

The guests began to arrive about a half hour later. They all mingled together in the room where Anders was trussed. Slaves served the guests food and drink from trays that they circulated around the room. From what Anders could tell, most of the guests were male, although he occasionally picked up a feminine voice or two.

Anders did overhear a rather interesting conversation at one point when one of the female voices spoke up. “Yes, he’s my brother,” the voice said. “I know Magister Danarius is very eager to have him returned. He said if I helped him, he would grant me an apprenticeship with him. He said I could possibly make it all the way to the Magisterium one day. Can you imagine? An elf as a Magister? I can’t possibly say no!”

Anders was stunned. Could this elf be Fenris’ long lost sister? He remembered Hadriana taunting Fenris with that information before her heart was ripped out by the elf. Hawke had mentioned in passing weeks later that Fenris had decided to try and track his sister down, to see if Hadriana had actually been telling the truth.

Throughout the evening, few remarks were made about him. For the most part the guests were keeping their hands to themselves and just enjoying the party. It wasn’t until everyone was clearly inebriated that Danarius finally rang a gong and approached Anders.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have arrived at the entertainment portion of our evening,” Danarius announced. “As you can see I have a very pretty specimen trussed up for your pleasures this evening. I know he is not my usual fare, which generally runs along the elven variety.”

A smattering of polite laughter followed that comment and Danarius paused.

“What I offer you tonight is a slave I have somewhat recently acquired,” Danarius continued. “He was once a Southern Circle mage, with a very rare talent. He is a Spirit Healer.”

A gasp of appreciation rose from the crowd.

“Not only that, but even more remarkably, he is possessed by a spirit as well,” Danarius announced smugly as more gasps came from his guests. “I am keeping the spirit suppressed because he is very aggressive, a Spirit of Justice.”

“So for those of you who have ever dreamt of fucking a pretty abomination, tonight is your chance, after I’ve warmed up his ass first, of course,” Danarius said darkly. “Slave, fetch me the leather strap!”

Anders whimpered when he heard Danaris’ command and the guests all giggled at his distress. When the slave returned, Anders caught a glimpse of the heavy leather strap he had brought. Anders couldn’t help trying to struggle but his bonds held fast.

“What say you, shall we warm him to a nice tender pink, or go for the full flaming red?” Danarius asked his guests.

“Flaming Red!!” the gathered crowd cried out enthusiastically.

Of course, they’d want to see his arse flaming red. They were all sadists, every one of them. Anders next thought brought him back to how he used to admonish Fenris every time the elf would grumble about how all mages were the same, and finally Anders understood why the elf would have come to such an opinion.

That was also the last thought Anders had that evening as the strap came down upon his ass, hard. The mage cried out through the ring gag and before the sting could even spread into a pleasant tingle, the next blow came. Danarius began a very steady rhythm of hard, heavy blows, starting on the upper part of Anders’ arse and working his way down over the mage’s sit spots and then working over his spread thighs as well. When he finally stopped, Anders was crying. His entire backside felt like it was on fire.

“Now, is that flaming red enough?” Danarius asked his guests, many of which had already begun to remove their cocks from their breeches and were stroking them fervently.

A resounding “yes!” rang through the room as the men crowded closer, waiting for Danarius’ word to begin using the slave. Danarius removed the plug from Anders’ ass and stepped back. “Please enjoy him, with my compliments.”

Danrius then retreated to his dais to watch the proceedings.

One after another the Magisters fucked Anders ass and throat, filling him with their foul seed.

Even though he had been made the “ship’s whore” on his voyage to Minrathous, nothing he had endured at the hands of the slavers was as bad as this. If Fenris had been subjected to this form of gang rape as well, Anders shuddered at the thought, as yet another Magister came down his raw and aching throat.

From his position, Anders occasionally caught a glimpse of Danarius, who was taking his pleasure from his young slave as he watched Anders getting repeatedly raped.

Once every guest was sated Danarius came down from his dais, leaving his young slave chained to his throne, looking thoroughly debauched as well.

“I have one final treat for you all this evening!” Danarius announced. “Bring out the blood sacrifice!”

Anders blanched when he saw young Cyriel being dragged in chains over to another pedestal opposite of his.

“Everyone, please step outside of the summoning circle,” Danarius requested as he moved over to the terrified elven boy who was now securely chained. “I know what you have been doing for the abomination. I cannot let such blatant misbehavior go unpunished.”

Anders wanted to shout out. To tell Danarius to punish him instead of the child. However, Anders was still bound and gagged and all he could do was shout unintelligently through the ring gag.

Danarius flicked his wrist at Anders and silenced him, muting his vocal chords with a simple spell. Now all Anders could do was scream silently as he watched the magister make long, precise slices into Cyriel’s forearms, bleeding the elf. The blood was being collected into two large chalices. Then Danarius walked behind the boy and brought forth another chalice and sliced open the boy’s jugular, bleeding the life from the poor child.

Once again Anders’ mind went back to Fenris and one of the many arguments they’d had.

_“So, there must be mages in Tevinter that don't use blood magic,” Anders prompted_

_“Of course. There are slaves. The magisters do not hesitate to collar their own kind,” Fenris acknowledged._

_“But no magisters?” Anders questioned._

_“Why must you go on about this? No magister would turn down an advantage over his rivals. If he did, he'd be dead,” Fenris insisted._

_“You know, to use blood magic you must look a demon in the eye and accept his offer. I just figured some of them would say no. For aesthetic reasons, if nothing else,” Anders shrugged._

Anders was brought out of his reverie as he watched, horrified, as Danarius carefully poured Cyriel’s blood into the intricately carved patterns of the summoning circle. Once complete, the magister walked out of the circle and raised his hands, shouting a powerful incantation.

Magic swirled in the summoning circle, glowing a sickly green, and moments later a demon appeared. It looked much like the more familiar Desire demons, with a humanoid body and purple skin. However, this one was decidedly male, standing easily over eight-foot-tall and sporting an impressively large erection that was easily the size of Anders’ entire forearm.

“Welcome back to my estate,” Danarius bowed towards the creature. “I have an offering for you that I hope you will find pleasing.”

The demon eyed Anders, all trussed up and helpless. Anders quickly realized what was going to happen. He was going to be raped again. By a demon.

The demon smiled as he made his way over to Anders, running his large hands over the mage’s naked, semen covered skin. “I am very pleased,” the demon’s voice rumbled. “You have out done yourself this time, Danarius.”

The demon knew Danarius by name? They had done this before? That meant that Danarius not only had the ability so summon demons from the Fade, but he could summon very specific ones when he desired. No wonder he needed so much blood to cast the spell.

Anders’ entire body trembled with fear when the demon settled himself behind him.

“Do you wish this one to still live when I have finished with him?” the Demon asked before proceeding.

Danarius hesitated for a moment while he contemplated the question. Then with an exaggerated sigh he replied. “Yes, he might still prove useful so it would please me if he was still alive.”

The demon laughed, a deep, throaty laugh just before he thrust his impossibly huge cock into Anders already well-fucked hole. All Anders remembered after that was the blinding pain as the demon fucked him hard and rough, not giving him any time to adjust and most surely tearing open his insides.

Somehow Anders was not passing out from the pain. Danarius must have used magic to make sure he remained conscious during the ordeal.

After an agonizingly long time the demon finally completed, releasing what felt like gallons of cum into Anders’ ass. The mage felt his belly expand with the sheer amount of it and the guests all cheered, some of the magisters once again aroused and stroking their cocks.

It wasn’t until after the demon was sent back to the Fade and all the guests had finally left that Anders was released, his damaged rectum healed and once again thrown into his cage. They didn’t bother to wash him, so he had to sleep still covered in cum and blood while he had nightmares of the demon who seemed to keep wanting to find him again in the Fade.


	5. Troublemaker (*)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders finds an opportunity to attempt an escape, and lands himself in more trouble.

**9:37 Dragon**

Several months passed and it was now summer in Minrathous. Not that Anders would know as he hardly was ever outside of the slave training room, which was completely windowless and kept at a cool temperature. Other slaves would be brought in for training for several weeks and then leave, completely broken and subservient, to assume their new duties in the household, while Anders just remained. Danarius would sometimes ignore him for weeks before coming up with new, even more sadistic ways to torture him. Anders still refused to be broken.

Then one day the estate was abuzz with the news that Danarius had finally chosen a new apprentice to replace Hadriana. The shocking part was that not only was the new apprentice an elf, but that she was the older sister to Danarius’ run away little wolf.

Anders dismayed at the news because he already knew what that probably meant. Danarius had found a more powerful lure for Fenris and that his potential usefulness was quickly waning. He had to try and escape before Danarius thought he was no longer worth the trouble and just kill him.

Anders was taken from his cage and bathed whenever Danarius thought to _play_ with his mage slave, primarily because he didn’t like him to reek whenever he had a mind to work the mage over for his various torture sessions.

Anders knew that the next time they took him out to bathe him would be his only chance to make an escape attempt. They always kept his hands cuffed behind him and he was back in that damnable Saarebas collar, but he had to try and make a run for it, because the next torture session could easily be his last.

His opportunity came a couple of weeks later, when only one slave was sent to fetch Anders. Normally they had three or four that would escort him, but apparently Danarius was preparing for another function and couldn’t spare enough slaves to guard Anders on his walk to the slave baths.

At one point along the way from the training room to the baths, Anders knew they would be passing by a large bank of windows that overlooked the estate gardens.

As they approached the windows, Anders took his chance and dove head-first out of the windows, going into a barrel roll and landing in a crouch. The slave that had held onto his chain leash was so startled he had let go and Anders was free. He had glass shards dug into his skin but he didn’t care. He immediately stood on slightly shaky legs and started a slow shuffling run across the estate grounds as the slave cried out an alarm.

Anders heart soared at being free. He had no idea where he was going, but he figured getting as far away from the mansion was probably the best first step. Then he could hope to get his bearings and hopefully find someone in this blighted country that might have some sympathy for slaves and help him get out of this collar and cuffs.

Anders’ next thought surprised him. _I can’t wait to get back to Kirkwall and see Fenris_. Since when did he ever look forward to seeing that grumpy elf? But the thought persisted and he couldn’t shake the vision of running into Fenris’ arms. _As if Ser Grumpy Elf would ever welcome him with a hug. Hah!_

Anders had made it a good distance from the mansion when he ran into a magical barrier. He cursed himself for not thinking that Danarius wouldn’t have some way to keep slaves from escaping. Without access to his magic he had no way to disrupt or dispel the barrier either. So, Anders decided to try and walk along it, hoping to find a weak point to break through.

The estate was large and the circumference of the barrier was clearly miles long. This was yet another blood magic construct and Anders didn’t even want to fathom how many blood sacrifices it must have taken to erect it. The thought alone made him sick.

Finally, Anders started to approach the front of the estate. Surely the barrier had to be down at that point because otherwise it would block guests and visitors from entering or leaving the estate.

Anders began to hurry then, his heart pounding as he could almost taste his freedom.

That’s when he heard the barking. Someone had released dogs and they were coming after him. Anders panicked and ran as fast as his weakened legs could carry him, constantly looking over his shoulder to see how close the dogs might be.

Just as Anders rounded the corner of an outbuilding near the front of the estate, he ran right into two of Danarius’ largest slaves, the ones who served as his personal body guard whenever he left the estate.

They immediately grabbed him and began to drag him back towards the mansion, while Anders kicked and screamed. “No, no, no, noooooooooo! Please let me go. Please let me get away from here. He’s going to kill me. Please!”

His cries fell on deaf ears.

Once back inside the mansion Anders was brought before Danarius who looked at him with more of a bored expression than an angry one.

“Well it certainly took you long enough to try and escape,” Danarius stated flatly. “I had heard you escaped a total of seven times from your Ferelden Circle. Jumping through a window? How very unimaginative.”

“I still got out,” Anders shrugged. “I just didn’t count on that giant magical barrier.”

Danarius sighed. “I have grown bored of you and as I’m sure you are aware; I am no longer in need of your help to recapture Fenris. I clearly overpaid that slaver for all the trouble you’ve caused me.”

Anders steeled himself, sure that he was about to be put to death.

“Get him out of my sight, flog him to within an inch of his life, then sell him on the slave market,” Danarius commanded.

Anders was slightly stunned at the pronouncement as the slaves dragged him off into yet another room where slaves were punished or tortured. They hung him by his wrists and proceeded to flog him, as instructed. Indeed, they did flog him to within nearly an inch of his life. He had passed out several times during the flogging, each time to be reawakened by a bucket of ice cold water being thrown on him before the flogging would begin anew.

After the flogging, he was dragged half-conscious, to the household healer, who picked out the shards of glass from his skin and healed up all the cuts and bruises from the flogging. He was then given a final bath before being taken to the slave market that afternoon.

After that everything was a bit of a blur to Anders, as he was thrown into a hold with a large group of other slaves, mostly elven. Eventually they dragged him out of there and out to the auction floor where he was forced to kneel.

“Here we have a fine human specimen who has recently been part of the household of Magister Danarius,” the auctioneer announced. “He is a Southern mage, and I’m told a rare Spirit Healer. He is also possessed by a Fade spirit, while still maintaining his handsome Southern looks. He may still require some training, but I hear he’s an excellent fuck. How much am I bid for him?”

Several bids were made and he was finally sold for five-hundred gold. Anders wasn’t sure if he should be proud of disgusted by the fact someone wanted to pay so much for him.

Once the bidding was concluded he was dragged to a private room where his new owner would be able to inspect him before completing the purchase.

In the room, Anders remained chained, his arms and legs both spread wide. The man who entered was a large brute of a man who smelled of alcohol and sex.

“What’s your name?” the man asked as he ran his hand down Anders’ flank before reaching between the mage’s legs and stroking his cock, causing it to stiffen despite his squawk of protest. “Don’t make me ask again, the man said, as he began to squeeze Anders’ cock and balls.

“A..Anders,” the mage squeaked. “My name is Anders.”

“Well, now, Anders,” the man said as he loosened his grip. “You may call me Master. You will be a fine addition to my brothel once you’ve been properly trained.”

Anders hung his head. _What was with these ‘Vints and sex?_

One of the slave auction workers came in then and Anders’ new _Master_ paid the money he’d bid. Then Anders was released and trussed up for travel. He was thrown into the back of a caged wagon with several other slaves.

Once they arrived at the brothel, they were herded through a back entrance. Each new slave was assigned to an existing brothel worker for training, all except for Anders.

“I’ve decided you’re going to be my special project,” _Master_ told him. “I’m going to turn you into my star whore.”

Anders did not like the sound of that.

Anders found himself led into a large spacious bedroom, with a large luxurious bed. This was at least an upgrade from where he had spent the last several months.

“These are my quarters,” _Master_ explained. “You will be living here with me for the duration of your training.”

Anders nodded mutely.

“Tell me, how long has it been since you were given a hot bath?” _Master_ asked.

“I can’t recall the last time I’ve had an actual bath,” Anders replied honestly. Thinking back, Anders probably hadn’t had the opportunity to have a hot bath since he was in Amaranthine at Vigil’s Keep. On the run, he’d bathed mostly in rivers and streams, and in Kirkwall he usually just washed himself from a small basin. Since being taken he’d never been allowed to bathe either. He was just always just washed down, usually with cold or tepid water.

“Then the first thing is to draw you a hot bath I think,” Master said. “I insist on good hygiene in my brothel. First rule, take regular hot baths.”

“Yes, Master,” Anders replied. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good!” Master laughed. “I think we’ll get along splendidly!”

***

When Anders slid into the bath and the warmth of the water seeped into his bones, he let out a contented sigh. Ok, this was _definitely_ an improvement over Danarius. Perhaps he could stay here and let himself recuperate before trying to escape again and get back home to Kirkwall.

He wasn’t sure when Kirkwall had started to be home, but it certainly was the closest to what felt like home to him. He missed working in his clinic. He missed his friends. He missed Justice. Maker, he even missed bickering with Fenris.

For the first time in a while he allowed his mind to wander, wondering what his friends must have thought when they found his clinic in the state the slavers had left it in. Did they search for him? Would they attempt to mount a rescue if they found out where he was?

Anders began to wash. He wasn’t that dirty, but it felt good let the hot soapy water run over his skin, which still stung from the flogging he’d had earlier that day. His skin may have been healed, but as usual the pain remained.

Once the water began to cool, Anders stepped out of the bathtub and dried himself off. Master had instructed him to kneel by the bed and wait for him after the bath. Anders at first wanted to be defiant, but so far this new owner had been kind to him and Anders had had enough punishment for one day.

So, the mage sank to his knees by the side of the bed and waited.

***

Master finally came back an hour later and Anders startled awake. He had begun to doze in his kneeling position by the bed. It had been a long, wearying day.

“I’m glad to know you are capable of following instructions,” Master praised. “I’m going to start your training tonight, so go ahead, climb up on the bed and get on all fours, with your arse facing me.”

Anders complied, having a feeling of what was coming next.

“Your first lesson is going to be very simple,” Master said, as Anders heard the man’s belt jangle as it was loosened. “All you are, from now on, are two warm holes to fuck.”

Anders shuddered when he felt the man’s hands run up his back as the bed dipped behind him. He let his entire head and shoulders rest against the bed, the weight of the Saarebas collar and chains dragging him down, and causing him to raise his ass higher.

“Your only purpose in life now, is to be fucked,” the man continued as he grabbed a flask of oil and proceeded to slip an oiled finger into Anders’ ass. “If you are not getting fucked, you aren’t earning me any money. Once you’re trained you will getting fucked by my clientele all day long, every day, for as long as I own you. I spent a lot of coin on you and I plan to make it back, three-fold.”

Once the man was satisfied that he had applied enough oil he slicked up his erection before putting the flask away and bending over Anders’ prostrate form. “During your training I will be taking my pleasure from you exclusively. What makes you special enough for me to train you myself is simple. Your exotic looks and the potential danger that lurks beneath that collar. I couldn’t risk anyone less experienced train you. Especially not when all I’ve wanted to do since I saw you on the auction block is bury my cock your pale, freckled ass.”

After that declaration, Master did exactly that, as he slid a very large, thick cock into Anders. “Fuck you feel just as hot and tight as I thought you would. My compliments on Danarius’ healers. I’d heard about that party several months back where you were fucked by that demon.”

Anders just knelt there, his head buried in a pillow, praying to the Maker for a chance to escape, while the man plowed into his ass hard and fast.

“That’s it, take it like a good slave,” the man huffed as he grabbed Anders’ hips tighter and fucked mercilessly into the mage. When he finally came, the man roared loudly, filling Anders with his seed.

After taking his cock out of Anders and flopping onto his back, breathing hard, he gave Anders a look. “Go on, clean me off now,” Master instructed.

Anders looked around for a wash basin when he was slapped, hard. “With your mouth, you idiot.”

Anders felt a wave of nausea as the man grabbed him by the hair and pulled the mage’s face towards his crotch. “Lick it nice and clean.”

Anders set about his revolting task as best as he could with the Saarebas collar and chains, while the man sighed contentedly at the ministrations.

“I am going to have to do something about that collar,” the brothel owner mused. “It does nothing to improve your appearance.”

Once Anders was done he was instructed to clean himself off and come back to bed, where the man locked his chains onto the headboard of the bed, forcing Anders to lie at an uncomfortable angle. Then the lights were doused and moments later the brothel owner was fast asleep and snoring beside him.

Anders had hoped the man might be better than Danarius. In some ways, Anders supposed he was. At least he didn’t seem entirely sadistic. Anders just hoped he would eventually have a better opportunity to escape from this latest hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor mage still can't catch a break.


	6. Escapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two failed escape attempts, Anders finally finds someone willing to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't add a (*) or (+) to this chapter because there are no explicit sex scenes, although there is mention of sex (Anders is in a brothel after all) and mention of the punishment that he is given for his previous attempts at escape.

**Early 9:38 Dragon.**

Anders had now been at the brothel for several months and another year had come and gone. It had now been nearly a year-and-a-half since he was captured and made a slave. Serving as a whore slave in a brothel wasn’t as bad as being a slave of Danarius but it certainly was still a lot worse than his time at the Circle.

While Anders had been abused a few times by unsavory Templars who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, they had been few and far between. Here, Anders had to suffer the indignity of being used many times every day. At the price of 2 gold per fuck, the brothel owner had earned back what he’d paid for Anders many times by now.

The brothel owner, who Anders finally discovered was named Petrus, kept Anders very busy. As a Southern mage with blonde hair and pale, freckled skin, he was in high demand and he’d often have as many as ten clients to service each day.

Instead of wearing that hated Saarebas collar, Anders had a more stylish, gold-plated collar, lined with velvet. It was enchanted with runes and functioned much the same as the Saarebas collar, keeping him cut off from both the Fade and Justice. He still missed the presence of the spirit.

***

Anders had just finished servicing yet another client and was chained again in the brothel lobby, waiting to be _chosen_. He rarely had to wait long, as so many were always drawn to him.

Several higher-ranking mages were milling about, checking out the merchandise, including one very handsome young man with a ridiculous mustache that somehow made him even more handsome. Anders straightened when he saw him, hoping the young mage would choose him. It would be nice to be taken by someone so fit and good looking. All too often Anders had to serve older and far too well-fed clients.

The young man did come by and flash him a smile until he noticed that Anders was chained to the wall, indicating his slave status. “I’m sorry, I can’t,” the man shrugged. “I only fuck freemen.”

Anders was disappointed, but soon an older mage paid Petrus for Anders’ services and he was once again being led back to his room to fulfil his duties.

Anders had already made two escape attempts and each time he was quickly caught and returned to the brothel. Apparently, he was on the official slave registry and that information was part of the enchantment on his collar, so it was easy to track and find him. It was just like those damned phylacteries all over again.

However, that didn’t stop Anders from trying. Each time he’d escaped so far, he made it a little farther and learned a little more about the city’s layout and how close he was from the city’s gates. He knew they were guarded so he would need to find a way to get past the guards in order to get out of the city.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t give up trying. There had to be a way to get out of Minrathous.

Anders thought about his friends often. Fenris, in particular. He thought about how much he needed to apologize to the elf if he ever saw him again. Everything Fenris had ever said about mages was true in regards to the ones in Tevinter. That wasn’t to say that Anders’ own assertions about mages was wrong, they just didn’t apply here. Tevinter was a completely different world compared to the rest of Thedas when it came to mages.

One realization Anders had come to terms with was that he had started to develop feelings for the elf. Anders had always found Fenris breathtakingly beautiful, but he had never allowed himself the luxury of feeling more. Justice wouldn’t have allowed for such a frivolous distraction in any case.

However, all the speculation in the world about the ridiculous possibility of Fenris actually returning Anders’ growing affections for him were all for naught as long as he was enslaved in Tevinter.

While mages elsewhere were locked away in towers, easy prey for sadistic Templars, here they reigned supreme and preyed upon the mundane and each other with equal fervor.

Tevinter was the polar-opposite of nearly everywhere else in Thedas when it came to mages and magic, and yet in both worlds Anders found himself locked away and abused.

***

Later that night as Anders lay chained his bed, he contemplated how he could affect his next escape. The first time was simple. He had earned Petrus’ trust enough to be left alone and unchained for a bath and he managed to sneak out of a window. It took Petrus a half-day to find him.

As punishment, Anders was tied across a special padded bench that was used by some of the whores for impact play with clients. Anders received thirty lashings from Petrus’ belt for his troubles. The bruises that bloomed upon his arse weren’t healed so he attracted the crueler side of the clientele for the next month. The ones who not only enjoyed seeing the bruises, but also enjoyed exploiting them.

After that Anders remained chained everywhere he went within the brothel.

During his second attempt, Anders was left chained in the impact play room by a client who forgot to bring him back out to the lobby after their session. Just his luck, the iron ring in the wall was coming loose and it only took a strong pull to get it off entirely. Once Anders was free, he wasted no time and ran out of the room, down the hall, and out the back door before anyone saw him. This time it took them two entire days to find him and Anders had made it close to the city gates.

His punishment was even more severe, receiving lashes each day for an entire week, along with having to endure taking every impact play client for a month. It took weeks for his bruises to finally fade.

Petrus then also made sure every iron ring he had in the brothel was secure and reinforced.

It had now been four months since that last attempt and Anders was getting antsy. There had to be another way out of here. However, this time he would probably need outside help. The only thing he could think of was to appeal to the sensibilities of one of his clients and hope one of them could help.

Most of Anders’ regular clientele were of the Altus class with the occasional Laetan or the even rarer well-heeled Soporati. Anders thought his best chance would be with someone of the Laetan class, as they would be more sympathetic to a fellow mage, and they were just as likely to become enslaved as members of the Soporati class.

All he needed was someone to unlock his chains, and tell him how to get past the guards at the city gates.

***

It took several weeks for Anders to find just the right regular client. One day, a younger Laetan named Ishal began coming to use Anders’s services every week, always at the same day and time. The young man seemed fascinated by Anders’ hair and spent a significant portion of their time together just running his fingers through it.

“Anders, do you enjoy being a slave?” Ishal asked one week, as he lay in post-coital bliss, playing with Anders’ hair.

“Do you wish for an honest answer, Ser?” Anders replied.

“Yes, actually. I command you to tell me your honest reply,” Ishal said with a slight giggle.

“Well, then, no. I do not enjoy it. I had my freedom stolen from me and all I want is to regain my freedom,” Anders told him.

“What would you do if you did get free?” Ishal wondered.

“I’d go home,” Anders said. “I was running a free clinic for the poor in Kirkwall when I was kidnapped.”

“You’re a healer?” Ishal sounded surprised. “What type of healer?”

“I’m a Spirit Healer,” Anders replied. “I also have other magical talents, but that was my specialty.”

“Oh, that is a rare talent,” Ishal sounded impressed.

“So I’m told,” Anders shrugged. He then took a deep breath. Since Ishal brought up the topic, this was his best chance to ask. “Would you…could you…help me escape?”

Ishal sat up from where he lay. “You were serious about wanting your freedom, weren’t you?”

Anders nodded.

“If I help you escape, would I ever get to see you again?” Ishal queried.

Anders shook his head. “Not unless you came to visit me in Kirkwall.”

Ishal made a put-upon sigh. “None of the other whores here are anywhere near as pretty as you,” he pouted. “Can you endure one more week at least? Let me have you just one more time?”

Anders heart skipped a beat. “Does that mean you’ll help?”

Ishal turned around and kissed Anders quite thoroughly before whispering. “Yes, I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“I’ll need to be unlocked from my chains,” Anders pointed at the locks connected on the collar and cuffs. “A way to get this collar off entirely would be desirable but tricky, but I definitely need to lose the chains. Finally, can you tell me how to get past the guards at the city gates?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll find out,” Ishal promised just as the bell rang, indicating their time together was up. “Until next week, be well.”

Anders heart was pounding with excitement. He couldn’t believe his luck. Hopefully everything would work out and within a week he would finally be free of this place and heading on the long journey home to Kirkwall.

Anders barely took note of his last few clients that evening and the rest of the week went quickly as Anders planned his escape, down to every minute detail. He hoped Ishal could come through with the two things Anders needed him for. If he could then Anders would gladly let the young man fuck him long and hard one last time.

***

The evening arrived when Ishal always arrived, but the appointed hour came and went and Ishal hadn’t arrived. Anders was crestfallen when he was taken by a different client back into his room to be serviced. Soon after that man finished, there was a commotion from the lobby of the brothel.

Petrus barged into his room unannounced just as the client was putting on his breeches. “What is the meaning of this? My hour isn’t even up yet!” the client protested.

Petrus ignored the man. “Anders! Were you conspiring with a client to escape _again_?!” Petrus screamed at the mage.

Anders remained mute, but he could not deny it.

“The city guard just arrested Ishal, who had been getting drunk at a tavern down the street,” Petrus informed Anders. “He was, very loudly, bragging about how he was going to help a brothel slave escape tonight. Even planning such an act is against the law. That poor Laetan will be forced into slavery himself for even contemplating such an act. I do hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Anders hung his head. He hadn’t wanted Ishal to get in trouble for this, but _why couldn’t he have kept his mouth shut?_ As Petrus turned to storm out of his room Anders called back. “Wait! I know I’ll be punished for this, but does Ishal have to be punished as well? I didn’t intend for him to get in trouble.”

“It’s out of my hands. Ishal knew the law,” Petrus replied. “You will remain here until I decide exactly what to do with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. Poor Anders still can't catch a break just yet, but there will be a light at the end of the tunnel. I promise!
> 
> Also, heads up - tomorrow's chapter includes art!!! (very naughty, very naked Anders art so definitely don't read tomorrow's chapter in public).


	7. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is once again sold at auction. What will his new master have in store for him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a beautiful piece of art that I had commissioned for this story. It does feature a very naked Anders, so I don't recommend you reading this chapter in public (click on it to get an enlarged version). The art was done by the very talented http://ynorka.deviantart.com/

**9:38 Dragon.**

What to do with Anders turned out to be more than a lashing this time. Instead he was loaned out for another orgy at the home of a Magister. Thankfully it wasn’t Danarius who had ordered for a slave whore, but this party was still much the same. Thankfully no demons were summoned to fuck him but this Magister liked to see slaves suffer.

The guests were invited to use a variety of different pain implements on him, including floggers, whips, canes, paddles and straps. In-between all the pain sessions, Anders was once again repeatedly raped. By the end of the night, every inch of him was in pure agony.

Thankfully once the festivities were over Andera was healed, and this healer also took away the pain, not just the injuries. This was probably because he had been rented from a brothel and they wanted to return the brothel’s property in good condition. Otherwise he was certain he’d have been left in pain.

After that ordeal, Anders was put into solitary confinement for an entire week, locked once again into a cage and only seeing someone once per day to give him food and water, and to relieve himself.

At the end of the week Petrus came to visit him. “You are just going to continue to try and escape, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Anders asked back glaring at his _master_.

Petrus sighed. “I tried to make your life here as comfortable as possible. You are my star whore and you have earned me a lot of coin. But you are far too much trouble. I’ve decided to take you back to the slave auctions.”

“You could just let me go,” Anders tried to suggest.

“I wish I could,” Petrus replied. “However, I’m a businessman and doing that would ruin my business. You are a legally registered slave in Tevinter. It would take months of paperwork and five-thousand gold to reverse that. That’s one reason why there are so few Liberati.”

Anders was given one last hot bath and a night to sleep in his room, still chained, before being prepared to go back to the slave auction. The next morning Petrus came in to wake Anders and handed the mage a cup of tea laced with magebane. “I need that pretty collar back, so drink up.”

Anders sighed but knew he had no choice, so he drank the bitter tea and then let Petrus remove the runed collar and replace it with the heavily chained Saarebas collar. “Just be grateful we don’t also sew our mage slaves’ mouths shut,” Petrus half-joked as he locked the collar into place.

***

As Anders once again knelt on the auction block, he felt even more humiliated. Apparently, word spread of his escape attempts and he was considered a troublesome slave. So, despite his exotic looks, the bidding floor was silent after the auctioneer introduced him.

“Come on, he’s still a comely lad, and he can still be put to work in your kitchens or gardens if he doesn’t suit your fancy,” The auctioneer cried out.

One person finally spoke up. “I’ll take him off your hands for fifty gold.”

The auctioneer perked up. “Fifty gold bid on this handsome slave. Do I hear sixty? Going once…going twice…sold for fifty gold!”

The silence was almost deafening while the auctioneer had waited for a counter-bid. While Anders really didn’t want to be sold at all, it was almost mortifying that he was being sold for one-tenth of what he’d been sold for before.

Anders was led to the inspection room and chained up again. In came an older mage, clearly a Magister based on the quality of his robes. Anders didn’t recognize him despite the many magisters, and their cocks, that he’d encountered in this time in Minrathous. This Magister hadn’t been among those that had raped him previously and that was somewhat of a relief.

“Do you want to know why I purchased you, slave?” the Magister asked.

Anders nodded. “Yes, Master.” He knew better than to try and be too defiant early on. Especially not with his current reputation.

“You are to be a gift to my son,” the Magister explained. “He continues to shame my family by getting caught in one brothel or coat closet after another and I will not have it. You are to be both his body slave and companion. It will be your duty to satisfy his urges and keep him out of trouble. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Master,” Anders replied.

“Good,” the Magister nodded.

Anders was released from the chains and led to the Magister’s carriage. “Kneel on the floor,” the Magister instructed.

The ride to the Gilded Quarter in Minrathous took a half-hour and Anders was pondering his current situation. Based on what he’d been told so far, he would exclusively service this Magister’s son. That would certainly be better than serving in a brothel, Anders hoped. If the son wasn’t completely hideous or cruel, that is.

As they arrived and Anders stepped out of the carriage after the Magister, he noted that this estate, while still grand, was not as ostentatious as Danarius’.

“I am here for the Spring as I had some work to do at the Magesterium,” the Magister explained as he held Anders’ heavy chain leash and guided him inside the mansion. “Our primary estate is in Qarinus and I’ll be returning there in early Summer. My son tends to remain here in Minrathous as he does research for the local Circle here.”

They headed down a hallway and into what clearly was a library. Anders gaped at all the books. “Can you read?” the Magister asked, noting Anders’ reaction.

“Yes, Master,” Anders nodded. “Although I have not learned how to read Tevene yet.”

“Perhaps my son could teach you,” he said almost absentmindedly as he rang a bell and a slave appeared. “Bring my son here immediately.”

“Yes, Master,” the slave said as he ran off.

While they waited, the Magister seated himself on a sofa in one corner of the library, and he tossed a pillow for Anders to kneel on.

A young man, probably in his late twenties, came in all a fluster. “What are you summoning me for now, father?”

The son stopped in his tracks when he saw Anders kneeling at his father’s feet. Anders looked up and surprise crossed his face when he recognized the Altus from his time at the brothel. He had been the one who declined his services because _he only fucked freemen_. Anders felt immediately that this wasn’t going to go well.

“What in the Maker’s name is going on father?” the Altus demanded.

The Magister rose and handed his son Ander’s chain leash. “I purchased a gift for you, Dorian. He is to be your pleasure slave and your companion. I have already instructed him in his duties; to keep your unnatural urges satisfied, and to keep you out of trouble.”

[](http://i.imgur.com/IrJ1pOY.jpg)Dorian looked down at Anders in confusion and annoyance, while Anders ducked his head in shame.

“Father, you know I will not be a party to rape. This man is a slave and I refuse to use slaves. I’ve told you this a thousand times. Why won’t you ever listen?” Dorian shouted and Anders ducked even lower, trying to make himself smaller.

“It’s not rape if he’s willing,” the Magister countered. “Just woo him with your considerable charm and I’m sure he’ll come around. Won’t you, slave?”

Anders looked up at Dorian. “You are very handsome, Master Dorian,” Anders said, finding himself not entirely opposed to servicing the Altus. He was quite handsome and something about his opposition to the idea turned Anders a little and he even felt his cock twitch.

“There, you see?” Dorian huffed in annoyance as he threw the chain leash on the floor and paced behind Anders. “He’s just another broken slave, like all the rest! I don’t want to make love to someone like that!”

Anders wasn’t sure what to do in that moment. He wasn’t broken, but he was afraid if he acted at all defiant he’d be punished, and he just wasn’t prepared to deal with that today.

The Magister and his son continued to argue and Anders carefully observed each of them, before coming to a decision. He slowly stood and walked over to Dorian, holding up his leash in offering. “Please, stop fighting with your father, Master Dorian. Let me do the task he purchased me for. I promise I’m not broken, nor am I that easy to break, which is probably why your father was able to fetch me for only fifty gold.”

Dorian looked at him in shock. Anders looked over at the Magister and the man nodded at him with approval. “Very good, then it’s settled. Show your new pet to your rooms Dorian, for that is where he will be living from now on.”

“Oh, very well, come along,” Dorian said as he walked off, leaving Anders run after the Altus.

The Magister called after them. “Don’t you dare let him escape either, Dorian, or I’ll punish you both!”

***

Anders followed Dorian into a very spacious suite of rooms. Dorian gave him a brief tour. There was a bedroom with a very large, four-poster bed, several ornate dressers and a small lounge area in front of an enormous fireplace. There was also a small private dining room that led into a small library and off to one side of the bedroom was a spacious bath with a sunken tub in the marble floor.

“Make yourself at home, I suppose,” Dorian said, as unhooked Anders’ chain leash, throwing it haphazardly into a corner. He Altus then wandered back to his library, grabbing a book and seating himself in one of the plush chairs that sat next to each other in one corner of the room.

Anders followed and started browsing the stacks of books. Unfortunately, they seemed to all be in Tevene  but he kept looking anyway, until he finally spied one with a title written in Common, _In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar_ , by Brother Genetivi.

Anders immediately pulled the book out and sat on the ground and began to read. He hadn’t read anything in so long, this felt like a luxury. He then sheepishly remembered his place and looked over at Dorian. “Is this alright, Master Dorian?”

Dorian rolled his yes. “First of all, just call me Dorian, please. Secondly, can you even read that? Most slaves I know are never taught how to read.”

“I have only been a slave for about a year-and-a-half,” Anders explained. “Before that I was an apostate mage living in Kirkwall.”

“Oh my,” Dorian exclaimed. “Well that explains why you’re not as completely subservient like most slaves are. That also explains why you’re wearing that hideous collar.”

Dorian rang a bell and another slave appeared. “Can you please go ask my father about getting a key to remove this ridiculous contraption from my new _companion_ here? Tell him I find it a complete turn off.”

“At once, Master Dorian,” the slave replied.

“Now then, while we wait, how about you tell me all about yourself, hmm?” Dorian suggested while indicating that Anders should sit in one of the two large, plush chairs that were set up in the corner of the small library.

Between the chairs was a table with a carafe of wine and several glasses. Dorian poured two glasses and offered one to Anders. The mage couldn’t remember the last time he’d had alcohol, between his enslavement and joining with Justice, his last drink probably had been when he was still with the Grey Wardens.

“Thank you, Dorian,” Anders accepted the glass gratefully and took a sip, his eyes lighting up at the rich, fruity flavor. “This is really good!”

“Aggregio Pavali. One of my favorite vintages,” Dorian explained.

Anders stared Dorian for a moment, and then stared at his glass, and then broke into peals of laughter. He laughed so hard there were tears streaming down his face in moments. Dorian looked at him with a bemused expression. “Do tell me what’s so funny!”

“It’s a long story,” Anders said, taking a deep breath.

Before Anders could say more, the Magister entered. “Dorian, I cannot just give you the key to that collar. There are significant risks associated with removing it,” he warned.

“I’m perfectly aware that he’s a mage, and I am fairly certain I can control him without that hideous device on his neck,” Dorian claimed. “It’s positively barbaric!”

“He’s not just a mage,” Dorian’s father continued. “Do you want to tell him, or shall I?” the Magister asked Anders directly.

“I was about to tell Dorian everything, but the long and the short of it is that I am possessed,” Anders confessed. “I harbor a Spirit of Justice within me, and I am fairly certain he would not be pleased with my current state as a slave.”

“Can you control the spirit? Clearly you have kept your human form well enough despite the possession,” the Magister queried.

“I usually can, yes,” Anders said. “However, if I become upset he can push his way forward and take control.”

“Have you always worn this hideous collar?” Dorian asked.

“No, when I was at the brothel, they had a special runed collar made,” Anders explained. “It had the same effect, but it was more attractive, especially to the clientele.”

“Well I for one would not like to feel the wrath of your spirit,” Dorian admitted. “If you give me the name of the brothel you served in, I’ll speak with the brothel owner and order another collar like that one made. I’m sure it must have been more comfortable than this contraption as well.”

“A wise precaution, Dorian,” his father praised. “I see he’s already having a positive influence on you.”

“ _Thank you_ , father,” Dorian said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Um, I do have a question, if I may?” Anders spoke up, encouraged by the causal nature of the conversation.

Dorian nodded his head indicating it was alright to ask it. “Which one of you is legally my owner? What do I refer to you as?”

“Excellent question,” the Magister replied. “When I purchased you, I put down Dorian as your owner, so you legally belong to him per the official slave records. You will refer to him however he instructs. As for me, my name is Halward of the House Pavus, and you may refer to me as Master Halward. Dorian can orient you with anything else you need to know about our household.”

“Thank you, Master Halward,” Anders inclined his head respectfully.

Halward then turned to leave and Anders relaxed a little again.

“So, you were going to tell me about why you were laughing and how you ended up in this predicament?” Dorian prompted, as he picked up his wine and took another sip.

***

Anders spent the rest of the afternoon telling Dorian everything, from the time he discovered his magic by accidentally burning down the family barn, to his years at the Ferelden circle, his many escapes, joining the Grey Wardens, meeting and then later joining with Justice, his years in Kirkwall and finally the last year in hell he’s spent in Tevinter as a slave.

Dorian stopped him and asked many questions along the way, and he was particularly curious about Fenris. “You actually know Fenris?”

“Yes. He and I would bicker with each other constantly, mostly in regards to the fate of mages. I have much to apologize to him for,” Anders said regretfully. “I always thought he was exaggerating about the slave conditions in Tevinter, but now that I’ve seen them first hand…”

“Well, you’ve certainly seen the worst of it, that’s for certain,” Dorian agreed. “Danarius was certainly the worst of us. My father and I always refused to attend his soirees. It put father in a difficult position politically, but we just cannot condone the types of things that man did to his slaves for mere entertainment. It was absolutely horrific.”

“So, you don’t bleed your slaves for your own amusement?” Anders asked pointedly.

“Most assuredly not,” Dorian insisted. “Blood magic is the last resort of the weak mind. My father and I both believe in that quite strongly.”

Anders laughed again. “I guess Fenris was wrong after all. Apparently not _all Magisters_ resort to blood magic, although it does seem a significant number do.”

“He was not wrong about one thing, not practicing it does put one at a disadvantage,” Dorian frowned. “However, the House Pavus would rather stand on principle, than drown in blood.”

Anders contemplated what they had just discussed as he took another sip of his wine when he realized something. “You spoke of Danarius in the past tense. Why?”

“Oh, hadn’t you heard? He was killed last year,” Dorian announced. “Sometime after you were sold he took his new apprentice and traveled to Kirkwall, where Fenris managed to kill him. Ripped his heart right out of his chest, so I’m told. A rather fitting end really. Danarius was done in by his own creation.”

“So Fenris killed Danarius?” Anders asked. Dorian nodded in affirmation.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Anders sighed with relief. “That man was a blight in his own right and I’m glad Fenris is alright.”

Dorian chuckled in agreement.

Anders studied Dorian then, quietly sipping his wine and relaxing for the first time in a very long time. “I think I’m going to like being your slave,” he declared.

“So, you promise you won’t run away?” Dorian joked.

“Please don’t ask me to promise that,” Anders said quietly before looking up at Dorian. “But I can promise I won’t run right away. Your father suggested you teach me how to read in Tevene and I would very much like to learn.”

Dorian smiled then. “That sounds like a splendid idea. However, first let’s wash up for dinner. I’ll have it delivered here and we can dine together in private tonight. I still have so much I want to ask you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things are looking up for our poor mage. Or are they? *muahahaha* ;)
> 
> Note: Sorry if there was some confusion on the chapter today. I tried to save it as a draft last night and it disappeared (it wasn't in my saved drafts) and when I went to redo it all today and posted it ... it posted as chapter 8 and the draft appeared out of nowhere. :/


	8. Friendship (+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Anders become fast friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note this chapter has a (+) ... which is my symbol for explicit, consensual sex.

**9:38 Dragon.**

Over the next several months, Dorian taught Anders how to read Tevene, along with helping him to understand various colloquialisms that had escaped the mage until now. Dorian seemed pleasantly surprised by how well educated Anders was and they would spend hours discussing magical theory, which thrilled Anders to no end.

“I had heard that southern mages were all uneducated barbarians,” Dorian shrugged. “And that’s why you’re all kept locked away in your Circles.”

Anders rolled his eyes at that comment and proceeded to educate Dorian on exactly how the southern Circles were run.

***

In early Summer, Halward returned to Qunaris as promised, and Dorian chose to stay in Minrathous. The Altus was researching something that seemed to trouble him and he did not want to abandon his work just to accompany his father back to their estate. Dorian also had no interest in facing his mother. “You do not want to be subjected to that woman, trust me,” Dorian confided in Anders.

Between his research and Anders occupying so much of Dorian’s time, the Altus managed to kept himself out of trouble. That surely pleased Halward who was probably still receiving regular reports regarding his often wayward son.

Besides his congenial relationship with Dorian, Anders was given several sets of robes to wear, so he no longer had to be nude. His Saarebas collar was also replaced with one custom designed for him. It still kept him from practicing magic or accessing Justice, but it was far more comfortable than even the one he wore at the brothel.

Anders remained for the most part unchained, although he was required to wear leather slave bands arounds his wrists so his hands could be clasped behind him if the need ever arose. Apparently if he were caught in public without them, he’d be subjected to a public flogging.

In general, Anders was treated by Dorian more like a member of the family than a slave and thoughts of running were far from Anders’ mind as he settled into a comfortable routine with Dorian. They often spent their mornings reading, and then would wander the estate gardens every afternoon discussing and debating what they’d read. As Dorian was training to be a battlemage and necromancer, so they also occasionally sparred before dinner.

Dorian was impressed with Anders’ skills in using a quarterstaff, as Anders regaled him with stories of all the slavers, brigands and Qunari he had fought alongside the Champion of Kirkwall.

Other than not being able to practice magic, this was very much the Tevinter lifestyle Anders had dreamt of for a long time. While he had seen the worst of Tevinter culture, he was now also seeing the best of it as well.

***

**Early 9:39 Dragon.**

Another year had now come and gone. One evening several weeks after the new year celebrations had all wound down, Anders and Dorian were lounging by the fireplace enjoying some wine and cheese. Anders was admiring Dorian and perhaps it was the wine talking but he couldn’t help himself from saying something. “You know I meant it,” Anders began. “When we first met after your father bought me. You really are very handsome.”

Dorian blushed a darker color of caramel. “You are quite fetching yourself. If only…”

“If only what?” Anders pushed.

“If you were free, and hadn’t suffered so much abuse,” Dorian continued. “I’d be fucking you into the mattress every night.”

“I’ve been more free in your household than anywhere else I’ve been in Tevinter,” Anders said. “I don’t even really feel like a slave at all here. I am glad you have given me time to recover after being raped so many times, but I’ll admit, I am starting to miss the touch of another.”

Dorian put down his glass of wine and slid closer to Anders, taking his glass out of his hand and putting it aside as well. “Are you really sure? I know you were forced into being fucked by men, but what are your preferences?”

Anders blushed. “Well I did tell you about Karl, remember? While I do appreciate the soft curves on a woman, there’s nothing like the feeling of a hard cock sliding in and out of my ass, especially when I want it.”

“And do you want it?” Dorian asked in almost a whisper as he leaned closer.

Anders looked straight into his eyes and nodded as his breathing hitched and his heart sped up. “Yes, very much. Please, for the love of the Maker, touch me.”

Dorian reached out and cupped Anders face and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. Anders’ groaned and parted his lips, hungry for more. Anders got lost in that kiss, the tickle of Dorian’s mustache making him smile, Dorian’s hands caressing him, making him melt.

After Anders had been very thoroughly kissed, the mage stood and took Dorian’s hand and led him over to the bed. Anders realized he would have to take the lead for Dorian to feel comfortable. Once they were by the bed, Anders slowly removed Dorian’s robes, one complicated buckle at a time. Anders kissed each new patch of perfect caramel skin he revealed, relishing the spicy musk of Dorian’s scent and taste.

Once Dorian stood there in all his naked glory, Anders stepped back to admire the Altus. “Maker, you’re gorgeous,” Anders praised.

“I’m glad you like what you see,” Dorian smirked. “I suppose it’s only fair I let you gawk, since you were nude when I first met you.”

Anders chuckled and then quickly removed his own robes before crawling onto Dorian’s bed. Technically they had both slept in this bed together from the first night, but always on opposite ends of the wide expanse. Dorian never dared come near Anders until now.

Anders turned around and waggled a finger at Dorian with a come-hither look in his eyes.

Dorian smiled and shook his head before he joined Anders on the bed. Soon they were completely entangled, kissing passionately as they rubbed their erections against each other, groaning into each other’s mouths.

“Dorian, please, take me,” Anders begged.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Dorian asked.

“Fuck you, stop asking me that! Yes, I’m sure. I’d like to replace all those horrid memories with a good one. Please!” Anders begged.

“Well since you ask so nicely,” Dorian chuckled. “On your back, I rather prefer to see my lover’s face as he comes undone.”

Anders smirked and turned around, spreading his legs for Dorian.

Dorian cast a quick spell and Anders felt slick running out of his hole. Dorian scooped some up and slathered it onto his cock as well.

“Neat trick,” Anders groaned. “You’ll have to teach that one to me sometime.”

Dorian then lined up and slowly began to open Anders with his cock. “Do let me know if it hurts at all,” Dorian groaned just as the head of his erection popped inside of Anders.

“Just go slow,” Anders instructed as he adjusted slowly to the intrusion.

Soon Dorian bottomed out and was fully sheathed inside Anders. He leaned down and kissed the mage again, and groaned when Anders began to flex his anal muscles around him. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” Dorian laughed as he slid out slowly and slammed back in, causing Anders to cry out in pleasure.

Soon they found a slow and steady rhythm as Dorian kept sucking on Anders’ neck, just below his collar, while the mage clung to the Altus, groaning in absolute pleasure.

“Fuck, you feel so good Dorian,” Anders moaned. “Please, fuck me harder.”

Dorian began to snap his hips in and out faster as Anders kept meeting his thrusts. Dorian reached between them and began to stroke Anders’ neglected arousal, causing the mage to arch his back. Soon they were fucking hard and fast and neither would last much longer.

“Cum for me Anders,” Dorian pleaded. “Please, I need you to cum first. Maker I’m so close.”

Anders thrust his cock up into Dorian’s grip just as Dorian’s cock hit his prostate just right and he was coming. Everything blanked out to a brilliant white as pleasure took hold and he arched up, painting his stomach with ropes of cum. Moments later Dorian threw his head back and cried as he filled Anders’ insides with his own release.

Afterwards they collapsed next to each other, breathing hard.

“Fuck, that was good,” Anders said breathlessly. “Why did we wait so long to do that?”

Dorian punched him lightheartedly and then snuggled up next to Anders, letting himself be held and cuddled, which was something he normally never did. It felt good.

“This feels nice,” Dorian purred. “I usually never linger like this with a lover.”

Anders ran his fingers through Dorian’s dark hair. “Why not? Cuddling after sex is my favorite part.”

Dorian shrugged. “It’s just not done. Things between men, here in Tevinter, are kept firmly behind locked doors. Feelings and love are never allowed to develop or flourish. It’s always foolish to even hope for it.”

Anders sat up and looked down at Dorian. “That doesn’t make sense. How can they be alright with a room full of Magisters raping male slaves, while at the same time reviling love between two men?”

Dorian rolled over onto his back, folding his hands under his head. “Simple really. The one act is a display of power and dominance. It’s posturing. Who has the biggest cock? Who can make the slave scream the loudest? That sort of thing. That behavior is encouraged. Love on the other hand? Love makes you weak. It makes you vulnerable, so it is not allowed to flourish.”

Anders lay back down next to Dorian and sighed. “I understand. It was very much the same in the Circles down south, although the genders of the pair didn’t matter. The Templars did not condone mages falling in love. If it was found out, they’d use it against us, often tearing couples apart. If a child was produced, they’d be ripped away from their mother immediately after birth and given to the Chantry to raise. Families were never allowed to form.”

Dorian opened his arms then. “Then let’s thumb our noses at both establishments.”

Anders laughed and shook his head as he crawled back into Dorian’s arms and fell asleep while being held by another person for the first time in a very long time.

***

After that night, Anders’ and Dorian’s friendship had grown even closer. As much as a close friendship could blossom between a master and his slave. They were now fucking regularly, however Dorian had been getting restless and was up for some new shenanigans, the kind that his father would not approve of.

“Come out with me tonight,” Dorian suggested. “If anyone asks, I’m having drinks with some old friends from the Circle and I want to show off my _pleasure slave_.”

Anders rolled his eyes. “You know we’ll get in trouble if your father ever finds out what you’re really up to, right?”

“Well you’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find out,” Dorian winked.

Without Justice to shout his disapproval, Anders was certainly more than willing to have a little fun. So, Dorian dressed them both up in their finest clothes and they left a note with one of the house slaves before leaving. Dorian had also insisted on removing Anders’ wrist cuffs because they _ruined the outfit_ and making sure the robes he wore covered his slave collar entirely. Tonight, they were just two friends going out on the town.

Dorian chose his favorite out-of-the-way tavern where all the Altus and well-heeled Laetan men came for quick trysts. Dorian couldn’t risk a brothel and this was the more exciting option. One never could tell what sort of people you might meet for a tryst.

When they arrived, they seated themselves in a far dark corner at first, so they could survey the crowd and order a couple of drinks in peace.

They were half-way through their first glass of wine when Anders nudged Dorian. “Someone’s staring at you,” he whispers.

“Let them stare,” Dorian preened. “I am very stare-at-worthy.” Anders snorted back a laugh at Dorian’s false pretentiousness. “Oh, alright tell me who,” Dorian finally broke down.

“The one in the far corner,” Anders said, with a slight inclination of his head.

“I believe he’s actually staring at us,” Dorian declared. “Perhaps we’ll both get lucky tonight, eh?”

“I’m only here to follow your orders, _Master_ ,” Anders said in a hushed tone, dripping with sarcasm.

“Be careful, _slave_ ,” Dorian purred quietly. “I would be well within my right to bend you over a table and take a belt to that deliciously pale arse of yours.”

A half-hour later found them and the stranger tangled and naked together in one of the tavern’s private rooms. Dorian was happily getting fucked by the stranger, while just as happily sucking Anders’ cock.

Afterwards the stranger quickly departed with a dark smirk on his face while Dorian and Anders lingered in the private room for a while longer. “That was simply perfect,” Dorian said. “There is just nothing like a quick, anonymous fuck to really get one’s adrenaline pumping!”

Anders laughed. “We should think about getting back. If you’re only _out getting drinks with old friends_ , we shouldn’t stay out too late. You know someone from the estate is sending reports back to your father.”

Dorian sighed. “You’re right. Alright let’s get dressed.”

Once they were dressed and had their hair put back into some semblance of order, they made their way back down to the tavern. “Curious how quiet it’s gotten. It’s usually much more raucous at this hour,” Dorian pondered aloud just as they descended the stairs and came face-to-face with a very angry looking Halward.

“Father!” Dorian exclaimed. “What in Maker’s name are you doing here? I thought you were remaining in Qarinus until early Spring?”

“I had to come early to deal with a situation at the Magisterium. Imagine my dismay when I arrive at the estate to find not only that you’re not at home, but to have one of my informants tell me what you were up to, _AGAIN_!” Halward seethed.

Then the angry Magister turned his attention to Anders. “YOU! You were supposed to prevent this from happening. Are you that lousy of a whore that you can’t satisfy even one man?!”

“I’m sorry Master Halward,” Anders said. “I…I…”

Anders was mortified and at a loss for words. He had no idea Halward was employing informants in the city’s taverns known for such…activities. He didn’t think they’d get caught, especially not in such a spectacular fashion.

Halward had several large guards with him and using his magic he had Dorian immobilized and in a magic suppression collar similar to Anders’ within moments. Dorian was still sputtering protests as they were both dragged out of the tavern and thrown into a cage together in the back of a wagon.

Anders was shocked that Halward would treat his son like a slave and it scared him. If Halward was angry enough to treat his son this badly, how much worse off was he going to be?

They were taken back to the estate and dragged into the almost unused dungeons. Halward had both Anders and Dorian stripped naked and shackled to the dungeon ceiling, both in full view of the other.

“You both will remain here for the rest of the night while you contemplate your misdeeds, and I contemplate your punishments,” Halward growled, stalking out and leaving them in the dark.

Anders whimpered in fear. Dorian groaned. “Hush, I’ll make sure I take the brunt of whatever punishment is coming. It was my idea after all. I just ordered you to go along with it.”

“I appreciate you wanting to protect me,” Anders said. “But the truth is, I disobeyed his direct orders to keep you out of trouble and I failed.”

“Well I will not allow him to punish you,” Dorian said indignantly. “By all rights, you are my slave, not his!”

***

It wasn’t until the following afternoon when Halward finally made his way back into the dungeons. By now both Dorian and Anders had soiled themselves so Halward called for some slaves to wash them off, dumping cold buckets on both.

Once they were no longer befouled, Halward was ready to inform them of his decision. “I know how close you’ve become with your slave,” the Magister began. “Therefore, the punishment I’ve decided on will suit both as your punishment for continuing to bring shame to our family by carousing in bed with strange men, and as a punishment for him for disobeying a direct order I gave him.”

Halward rang a bell and one of the same guards that had dragged them out of the tavern the night before came down into the dungeon, only wearing a pair of black leather breeches. In his hand, he had a large bullwhip.

“Father! No!” Dorian protested as soon as he realized what was going to happen. “You absolutely cannot do this! Not after all the abuses the poor man has suffered in his life already. It’s not right!”

“He should have thought about that when he disobeyed me and joined you in your little tryst last night,” Halward said calmly. “Gag him!” He ordered the guard, who produced a horse bit gag and shoved it into Anders’ mouth and secured it tightly behind his head.

“Normally I would have him whipped fifty times for his disobedience, but he will endure twice that as he is also taking your punishment as well,” Halward declared. Dorian wailed in protest but Halward raised his hand and silenced his son’s vocal chords. “You have no one but yourself to blame for this Dorian.”

Halward then indicated to the guard to begin. The man laid sure, clean strokes from the whip over Anders’ upper back, buttocks and thighs. It wasn’t until they began to criss-cross and draw blood that Anders truly began to scream. He’d been whipped before, as it had been the Templars’ favorite form of punishment for unruly mages.

However, he had last felt the bite of a whip on his flesh w he was in service to Danarius and Anders knew if Justice had been free, neither the guard or Halward would have lived for very long.

By the eightieth lash, Anders passed out from the pain but the guard continued until all one hundred lashes had been administered. Dorian was openly sobbing, clearly in distress to see Anders so badly punished.

Once it was over Halward signaled for more slaves to come down. “Take him down, wash his back and tend his wounds. Do not have them healed. I would have him bear the scars of this as a reminder. Once He’s been tended to, lock him into a cell in the far end of the dungeon.”

Once Anders’ had been had been unchained and dragged away, Halward released Dorian’s voice. “As for you, son, I have not yet decided what to do with you. I think for now you will remain exactly where you are.”

“No, Father! I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never do that again, I swear by the Maker!” Dorian pleaded as Halward left, dousing the lights on his way out, leaving his son in utter darkness and despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, our poor mage is in trouble again (but you all saw this one coming, right?). ;)


	9. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is let out of his cell and sent to work in the kitchens of the Pavus estate, where he learns of Dorian's fate.

**Late 9:39 Dragon.**

Many months later, a slave came to release Anders from his cell. He had been only given thin gruel and water once each day and otherwise left alone. He almost went mad from being in isolation again for so long and this time there was no Mister Wiggums to come keep him company like there had been at Kinloch Hold.

Anders had only maintained his sanity by thinking of his friends back in Kirkwall. Knowing that he had people he could run to, if he was ever able to get out of this situation. Some days Anders was convinced Halward was going to let him rot in his dungeons, but Anders kept reminding himself to hold on. Perhaps one day he’ll get a chance to get out.

In order to keep up his spirits and maintain his tenuous grip on his sanity, he began having regular conversations in his mind with Varric, Hawke, Isabella and Merrill. He even tried to recreate the old arguments with Fenris, but every time he remembered the elf, Anders cried. He felt that he owed Fenris so many apologies and he longed to find some way to express his affections for the elf.

As bad as life had been in the Circle, the memory of life there now seemed like a luxury compared to the horrors Anders had endured in Tevinter. Even when he thought the worst was behind him, he learned that he was so, so wrong.

After being released, Anders was housed with the other house slaves and put to work in the kitchen. It took him time to get over the trauma of his long confinement. It wasn’t until a couple of weeks later before he could even bring himself to speak to any of the other slaves.

“Where’s Dorian?” Anders asked one afternoon while he was scrubbing vegetables for that night’s dinner.

The slave he had been working with, a matronly elf named Eleni shook her head and frowned. “So, you are capable of speaking? Well, he’s still chained down in the dungeons. Rumor has it that Master Halward has been researching a spell to finally _fix_ his son once and for all. Until then he refuses to let him go for fear he’ll run off.”

Anders felt a huge pang of guilt then. _Dorian had been chained in the dungeons all this time? Halward wanted to fix Dorian? Fix him how?_ Anders’ mind raced as he started to think about how he could possibly free the only friend he’d truly had in Tevinter.

“Anders, go down to the wine cellar and bring up four bottles of the Aggregio Pavali for dinner. Master Halward is having guests tonight,” Elani instructed.

Anders made his way down into the wine cellar, seeking out where the Aggregio Pavali was kept, remembering sadly how he and Dorian would share a bottle almost every evening together. Things had been going so well, and Anders had actually been happy. How did everything get so messed up, _again_?

Anders found the wine in the far corner of the cellar and as he went to grab the bottles, he could hear voices. There was a grate in the wall above him separating the wine cellar from the rest of the dungeons. The voices became clearer as they came closer to the grate and Anders recognized Halward’s voice.

“How much longer until we can perform the ritual?” Halward asked.

“It will take one more week to prepare everything,” an unfamiliar voice replied. “This is a very complex spell and you wouldn’t want anything going wrong, or you’ll end up with a vegetable instead of a dutiful son.”

Halward huffed. “You better see to it that it’s done correctly. I want no harm to come to my son.”

Anders frowned at that declaration. _If Halward didn’t want any harm to come to Dorian, why was he doing all this in the first place?_

“Have him prepared for the ritual in one week’s time,” the stranger declared.

 _One week_. Anders had one week in order to find a way to free Dorian.

As the voices receded again, Anders quickly grabbed the bottles of wine and headed back up to the kitchen, his mind racing.

***

A couple of days later Anders was still no closer to finding a way to free Dorian. As long as he had this damnable collar on his neck he couldn’t use his magic, and he was still so weak from his long confinement he had no hope to use brute force.

One evening Anders was helping Elani clean the kitchens after dinner and he saw the woman take a short break and sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asked.

“Ah, it’s nothing you nor I should worry about,” she shrugged. “We’re just slaves. I shouldn’t be worrying my head about it either.”

“Please, tell to me,” Anders pleaded.

Elani put down the dishrag and looked at him. “I’m just worried for our Master Dorian,” she sighed. “I’ve been with the Pavus family for many years. I watched the lad grow up and he’s always been so kind to everyone in the household. He treats slaves and servants equally and is always good to us. I worry about how he might change after…after…”

Anders understood. “I know. I overheard Master Halward talking the other night and I’m worried too,” Anders sighed. “If only there was a way to get to Dorian, I could perhaps help him get out of here.”

“Would you really help him escape if you could?” Elani asked. “Don’t you fear being punished?”

Anders nodded. “I’ve endured so much, and Dorian was almost like a friend. No… _he is a friend_ of mine. I care about him. I can’t let this happen to him.”

“Well, there might be a way,” Elani eyed him up and down. “I think you might just be skinny enough to pull it off.”

“What do you mean?” Anders asked in a hushed whisper.

“There are small passages, throughout the dungeons,” Elani explained. “They were built to help circulate air, but they are just wide enough for someone skinny like you to make it through. I’m far too old and plump to even attempt it, but I think you could.”

“What if Dorian is still shackled?” Anders asked. “Do you know how to get the keys?”

“I know where the spare keys are kept,” Elani said with a wink. “Meet me here tomorrow night after the household has all gone to sleep.”

Anders nodded.

***

The next night Anders met with Elani as they had discussed. She handed him the spare dungeon keys. “If you both make it out, head for the southwestern gate. I’ve packed you both clothing and some provisions. I also took as much coin from Master Dorian’s room as I dared.”

“Maker bless you,” Anders breathed as he accepted the keys.

“Once you’ve left the estate, head for the docks,” Elani said. “There is a ship leaving first thing in the morning for Marnus Pell, down the coast. There should be more than enough gold for you both to book passage. That way you don’t have to worry about getting past the city gates.”

“Thank you so much Elani,” Anders praised. “You wonderful, dear sweet woman.”

Elani smiled. “You just get our Master Dorian out safely. May the Maker guide your way.”

Anders nodded and Elani led him down into the wine cellar and moved a wine barrel that hid another grate in the wall at floor level he could crawl into. They removed the grate and Anders gave Elani a hug before slipping into the passageway while Elani closed it behind him and moved the barrel back to hide its existence.

The passageway was narrow enough that Anders was forced to crawl on his hands and knees, but it was wide enough that he was sure Dorian, even with his wider frame, should also be able to fit. Anders hoped Dorian wouldn’t be too weak to crawl through these air ducts.

It took Anders a couple of hours to finally locate Dorian’s cell. Peering through the grate Anders saw Dorian curled up on a pile of hay, still completely nude, his hair long and disheveled, a full beard in place where his once carefully manicured mustache once grew. As Anders had feared, Dorian was shackled to the wall by wrist and ankle manacles.

Anders quietly removed the grate and crawled into the cell, moving quietly over towards Dorian. He put his hand over Dorian’s mouth to stifle any startled yell and quietly shook the Altus awake.

Dorian tried to cry out until his eyes focused on the face before him and then his eyes went wide with surprise.

“Shh. We don’t have much time,” Anders said in a hushed whisper. “Let me get you out of these cuffs.”

“Maker, Anders,” Dorian breathed, his voice rough from disuse. “I feared the worst when Halward wouldn’t tell me what he’d done to you.”

As Anders kept searching for the right key to unlock Dorian’s manacles, he tried to explain. “He kept me in a cell much like this one for months. I didn’t see or speak to anyone. I nearly went mad. Thinking of you and my friends back in Kirkwall were the only things that kept me from completely losing my mind. I was finally let out a couple of weeks ago and reassigned to the kitchens.”

Anders finally found the key for the wrist manacles and removed those from Dorian. The Altus’ wrists were raw underneath the manacles and he hissed in pain as they were removed. “I’m sorry, I wish I could heal that,” Anders grumbled.

“Let’s figure that out later,” Dorian replied as Anders fumbled for the keys to the ankle manacles.

Soon Dorian was free and Anders led the Altus into the same passageway he came through. Before leaving, Dorian made up his straw to look like perhaps someone was still sleeping in it, and then managed to get the grate back over the passageway before they continued. They needed to buy as much time as they could to get out of the mansion before being detected.

It took them an hour to find a grate leading outside, but it was welded shut. At first, Anders despaired that they would be stuck but Dorian wasn’t giving up so easily. They followed the ducts and passageways around the perimeter of the mansion and kept trying every grate that led outside. Finally, they found one that had a failed weld, and Anders managed to kick it open.

Once they were finally outside, Dorian nearly cried. “I haven’t seen the stars in months,” he sighed, looking up at the sky. Anders was grateful that the nights at that time of year were longer and that it was still dark out.

“We need to head to the southwest gate. Elani left us some provisions for us,” Anders said. “Which way is it?”

“She did? Bless her,” Dorian sighed as he led the way. They found the packs that were left in the bushes and quickly dressed. “It feels good to be clothed again! Now what’s the plan? We can’t get through the city gates with these collars on. The guards check for those.”

“Elani told me to head for the docks and book passage on a ship heading for Marnus Pell,” Anders replied as he pulled on his boots. “She said she packed as much of your coin as she could in the pack and it should be enough for both of us.”

Dorian searched through his pack and sure enough, there was a leather satchel filled with coin. “This is more than enough. I wish I could thank her before we left. That woman practically raised me.”

“I don’t worry, I thanked her profusely before I came to get you,” Anders assured him as they made their way out of the estate and towards the docks.

Anders and Dorian pulled up the hoods of their cloaks as dawn approached and they got closer to more populated areas. They kept as much to the shadows as possible. Once they made it to the docks, Anders let Dorian take the lead and inquire as to which ship was taking passengers north to Marnus Pell.

Dorian managed to locate the ship and was pleased to find that it was run by a somewhat nefarious rogue who generally didn’t check people’s identities or status. As long as you had enough coin, he’d take you as a passenger. Dorian quickly negotiated their fare and boarded with Anders. They didn’t lower their hoods on their cloaks until they were safely locked in their cabin.

The trip would only take a day or two, depending on the winds, so between their provisions packed by Elani and the small comforts of their cabin, they should be able to remain secluded the entire voyage.

However, neither of them breathed a sigh of relief until after the ship undocked and was underway.

It wasn’t until they were well underway when Anders finally spoke. “I think we made it,” he said quietly, choking back a sob. “I can’t believe we’re both finally out of there. I can’t believe I’m finally free.”

Dorian looked at Anders. “I cannot thank you enough, dear friend. You could have run and left me to my fate. Even though I kept you as a slave you still came back for me.”

“You never treated me like a slave,” Anders shrugged. “Not once. You’re a good man, Dorian.”

“I am still grateful. I will always be grateful,” Dorian smiled. “Besides Felix and Gereon you are probably the best friend I’ve ever had. I think they would have been shocked by my father’s behavior.”

After Anders unpacked their provisions, they sipped some wine and enjoyed some of the bread and cheese, Dorian shared with Anders the story of how Gereon Alexius had rescued him on one of his many brothel misadventures and helped him complete his Circle studies and gain his current position at the Minrathous Circle.

“Wouldn’t they have noticed you missing by now?” Anders asked.

“I’m sure my father concocted some tale or another to assuage suspicions,” Dorian shrugged. “Once he had completed the ritual he would have let me out and I’d have gone on with my miserable life, unhappily married to Livia.”

Dorian then began rooting around in his pack. “I’m wondering what else Elani might have stashed away,” he winked at Anders.

Dorian found a couple of pairs of warm socks and some changes of smallclothes. Anders found the same. Then in the bottom corner of his pack Dorian found a small pouch. “I wonder what this could be?”

He opened the pouch and inside were two small, golden keys and an amulet.

“Elani, Maker bless you a thousand times!” Dorian beamed. “She stole the keys to our collars!”

Anders touched the collar that had been around his neck for so long, it had almost become a part of him. As Dorian reached forward with the key Anders grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

“No, not yet, not here,” Anders said. “It wouldn’t be safe. Remember I’m not just a mage. I’m also possessed.”

Dorian nodded and understood. “Well at least get mine off me, would you please?”

Anders smiled and took the other key and reached out to unlock the collar around Dorian’s neck, finally freeing the Altus.

As Dorian felt himself reconnect with the Fade and his magic he sighed in relief. “Much better. Thank you. Now let me try and patch up my wrists and ankles before we try and get some much-needed rest, hmm?”

While Dorian used a basic healing spell to heal up his raw, chafed skin, he explained what the amulet was. “It’s my family birthright. It was given to me by my father on my eighteenth birthday. It will actually get us far although I will have to be cautious in using it. Halward could track down our whereabouts if I just start flashing it about all over the place. Now please help guide me with this. Healing was never my specialty.”

Anders smiled and helped guide Dorian through the rest of the healing process before they both lay down in the small bunk and fell asleep together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, finally Anders catches a break. However, his adventures are far from over!


	10. Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Anders head south towards Kirkwall. Anders makes a disturbing discovery.

**Late 9:39 Dragon.**

Once they arrived in Marnus Pell, the first thing Dorian and Anders did was get a room at a moderately priced inn. They were both sorely in need of a bath and a hot meal.

“Finally, I feel almost human again,” Dorian sighed as they retired to their room for the night after finishing their meal in the main dining hall of the inn.

They had chosen to sit in the back, quietly listening to the local gossip, hoping to not overhear any news of an Altus and slave who may be on the run. They knew they couldn’t stay in one place too long so they only planned to remain in Marnus Pell long enough to recuperate from their ordeal and procure some more supplies.

The next night, they changed to a different inn at the other end of town before they began their journey south.

“Where should we head?” Dorian asked as they packed their new provisions.

“I was hoping we could go to Kirkwall,” Anders suggested. “You know that’s where I’ve wanted to escape to and I have friends there. I’m sure they must be worried about me after having been gone so long. It’s been…Maker, it’s been almost four years now.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Dorian agreed. “Perhaps I could even continue some of my research there. I never did tell you what I was working on, did I?”

Anders shook his head. “No.”

“There is new radical faction rising up here in Tevinter,” Dorian explained. “They call themselves the Venatori. Their goal is to try and _return Tevinter back to its glory days_ , or some such nonsense. Before we ran afoul of my father, I had heard rumors of them working their way south for some reason, and Kirkwall was mentioned. From what you told me about that Circle, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Ventori weren’t somehow behind sowing seeds of unrest there.”

“That gives me a lot to think about,” Anders frowned.

They set out towards the Imperial Highway, which was a three-day walk from Marnus Pell. They opted to dress in simple clothes, so as not to draw too much attention to themselves. They both carried a staff but Anders was still wearing his suppression collar.

After the end of the first day, they set up camp and settled in around a fire to eat from the provisions they had brought. Once Anders had finished his meal he took a deep breath and looked at Dorian. “I’m ready now.”

“Ready to do what, exactly?” Dorian asked, arching an eyebrow.

“To remove the collar. We’re far enough away from anyone else, just in case Justice decides to be violent. Just be ready with a barrier spell, I don’t want him to accidentally harm you,” Anders clarified.

Dorian nodded and dug into his pack for the small pouch containing the keys. He handed Anders the key and then stepped back, casting a barrier around himself. Anders took another deep breath and then unlocked the collar.

It had now been nearly four years since he’d connected with the Fade and it felt like it rushed back to him all at once, as he felt his mana surge and his magic returned full-force. Anders dropped to his knees, tears flowing freely down his face as he spread his arms wide and let out a brilliant flash of electricity.

“I’m finally truly free!” Anders cried, almost sobbing for joy.

Dorian looked at Anders quizzically. “Can I drop the barrier yet?”

Anders looked over at Dorian, remembering why the barrier was even there and he tentatively reached out in his mind. _Justice? Are you there?_

All Anders heard was silence. He had become used to not hearing the spirit but it was disturbing that he still couldn’t.

“I don’t hear him,” Anders said in a hushed whisper. “ _Oh Maker_ , why can’t I hear him?!”

Dorian lowered the barrier and approached Anders. “Your spirit is gone?”

Anders shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s been suppressed for so long now. I don’t know what that can do to a spirit.”

“I’ve never heard of a possessing spirit just disappearing like that,” Dorian mused. “If we were still in Minrathous, I would consult with others at the Circle there.”

“No offense, but I never want to get near that city again,” Anders declared, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Perhaps my friend Merrill could help? She was working with a demon to try and help her restore an elven artifact. At least until Hawke had to kill it. She’s a blood mage and knows a lot more about demons and spirits than even I do.”

“You’re friends with a blood mage?” Dorian teased.

“Well, we all tolerated her use of it,” Anders explained. “Despite resorting to blood magic, she was always a very sweet elf. Nothing like Fenris. Varric always called him Broody,” Anders recalled with a laugh.

“Did he give you a nickname as well?” Dorian asked.

Anders chuckled. “Yeah, he called me Blondie.”

Dorian laughed.

Anders glared. “Don’t you dare call me that. I barely tolerated it from Varric.”

***

**Early 9:40 Dragon.**

Anders and Dorian had been slowly making their way to Kirkwall on foot. They’ve been traveling for two months and were nearly two-thirds of the way there now. They had just crossed the border from Tevinter into Nevarra where they bedded down for the night at an inn on the border and had seated themselves into a corner to order some food and drink.

Now that they were no longer within the Imperium, Anders recommended that they stop carrying their staves like a mage would, but use it more as a hiking staff.

They also left them behind in their room before coming down to the dining hall. Once again Anders was an apostate mage in the south and the last thing he wanted was to get snatched up by Templars and thrown back into another Circle. Not after having finally been freed from his enslavement in Tevinter.

As usual they carefully listened to the local gossip as they ate their meal in silence. What they began to overhear made Anders eyes go wide. The Circles were rebelling? The Templars and Mages were at war? Somehow it was all ignited by the unrest in Kirkwall?

Anders hands were trembling at the news. He could hardly believe it.

“Well, now we _have_ to go to Kirkwall and see what in blazes is going on,” Dorian said in a hushed whisper, and Anders agreed.

The next day they found a merchant who was traveling towards Cumberland and they paid him for the privilege of riding in the back of his wagon. They needed to get to Kirkwall faster than they had been and this could take weeks off their journey.

As they continued their way south, they kept hearing more about the unrest. Templars and mages were openly fighting and Anders longed to join in the battle, to give back to the Templars for what they had made him suffer and mostly for what they did to Karl. Dorian convinced him it was best for them to continue to lay low and make it to Kirkwall first and see what the situation was like there.

Anders reluctantly agreed. Once they reached Cumberland they parted ways with the merchant, choosing to spend the night at an inn before heading out for Kirkwall the next day. Now that they were in the Free Marches, more details became clear of what might have happened in the intervening years since Anders was taken.

From what they could gather, sometime in 9:37 Dragon, Knight-Commander Meredith called for the Right of Annulment, and in retaliation the Champion of Kirkwall had blown up the Chantry. Ever since then the Champion had been on the run.

This news dismayed Anders greatly. “Oh no, no, no,” Anders cried when he realized the truth. “It’s my fault. All of this is my fault!”

“What are you talking about?” Dorian demanded. “You told me you were kidnapped by slavers in 9:36 Dragon, so how could any of this be your fault?”

“You don’t understand,” Anders tried to explain. “I was working with the Mage Underground. We had come up with a last-resort plan, to plant a magical bomb into the heart of the Chantry. It was meant only as a last resort. It was to be detonated by a spell only if it became necessary. I came up with the plan and the formula to create the bomb. I just hadn’t gotten around to gathering the ingredients to actually make it.”

“What ingredients were required?” Dorian asked out of curiosity.

“Let me think,” Anders replied, remembering. “A combination of sela petrae and drakestone.”

Dorian’s eyes went wide. “I know exactly where you were going with that then. Combine those with the right spell and it becomes a highly destructive explosive.”

Anders nodded. “I know. I spent years researching for exactly the right spell. I’d finally found it not long before I was kidnapped.”

“Had you given the spell to anyone, or told anyone of it?” Dorian asked.

Anders shook his head. “No, but the details were written in my notes that I kept at my clinic. Hawke could have easily gone through my things and found it.”

“Still, it’s not your fault,” Dorian insisted. “Who is to say you would have ever used it, if you hadn’t been taken?”

Anders nodded. “You’re right. I have no idea what I would have done. Although I must say, if I’d known about the Rite of Annulment being called, I probably would have detonated it.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Dorian said quietly. “You weren’t there, and the actions were carried out by others.”

Anders nodded. “I know, but I feel bad for all the innocents who probably lost their lives that day.”

Anders thought of Justice then. The spirit, if he still possessed Anders at all, would be thrilled at the events that had taken place while they were in captivity. The Kirkwall Chantry was gone. The Circles all over Thedas had fallen and there was word that the Seekers of Truth were calling for an end of the Navarran Accords. Those accords had formed the Circles and the Templar order, and because of those accords, had kept southern mages practically prisoners for the entirety of their lives.

“Justice would have loved this,” Anders sighed. “I’m still worried that he hasn’t re-emerged.”

“Hopefully we can still find your friend Merrill,” Dorian reassured him. “Now let’s go back up to our room and get some sleep, shall we? I think you said there wouldn’t be any more towns between here and Kirkwall and I’d like to enjoy a good night’s rest in a proper bed.”

Anders agreed and followed the Altus upstairs to their room.

***

The next morning Dorian was insisting on purchasing horses, instead of to going the rest of the way on foot. Unfortunately, his supply of coin was quickly dwindling and they also needed more provisions as well.

“Dorian, you can’t sell your family birthright!” Anders argued with the Altus as he marched determinedly to the market to find a vendor who would purchase such an item from him.

“Oh yes I can!” Dorian insisted. “My father clearly doesn’t want me, as I am, for a son. So why should I honor anything from him? I despise him and his fucking legacy!”

Anders shook his head and backed down. He just followed mutely as he watched Dorian haggle with several vendors until he finally met a rather oily Orlesian merchant whose eyes lit up when he saw the amulet. The merchant, who introduced himself as Ponchard de Lieux, offered Dorian quite a substantial amount of coin for the birthright and Dorian happily accepted, under the condition that he might buy it back some day.

After purchasing the horses, they set out in the early afternoon and made good time heading along the coast towards Kirkwall.

Even on horseback it would take them nearly another week to reach their destination and there were no other towns or villages along the way.

They were about half-way up the coast by the end of their third day of travel. They found a level clearing surrounded by large boulders and forest, with a beautiful view of the Waking Sea. They decided to stop for the night and set up camp. Soon they had a roaring fire going and had laid out their bedrolls.

“I’m tempted to go find some rabbits for supper,” Anders suggested. Just as Dorian was about to voice a protest against wandering around the woods alone, they both heard a twig snap and as they turned around they saw they were surrounded by several men.

“Oh ho lads,” one of the men said with a wide grin. “Looks like we may have found ourselves two very pretty apostates!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh...and things were going so well. ;)
> 
> We're a third of the way through this rollercoaster. What do you think so far? I can't wait for you to see what else I have in store. ;)


	11. Caught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Anders are captured by slavers intent on returning them to Tevinter.

**9:40 Dragon.**

Anders had electricity crackling from his fingers and Dorian was flaring up fireballs when they were both hit with magebane laced darts. They both dropped to their knees as they felt their connections to the Fade cut off and soon enough the men had them both face first on the ground.

The men roughly grabbed their arms and deftly tied them behind their backs before they were hauled to their feet. The rest of the men grabbed their gear and horses and doused the fire before roughly dragging them into the surrounding forest.

At first Anders was too dazed from the magebane to really focus on anything. Anders realized that the dose of magebane must have been quite high; higher than when he last was taken by slavers.

As they kept walking his head cleared a little and as he looked around his heartrate sped up as he recognized the men. He knew each of them more than intimately. They had been part of the same gang of slavers that had been hired by Danarius all those years ago, the ones who took him instead.

Anders was terrified. It was all happening again. With the magebane still in his system, and his hands tightly bound, he couldn’t access his magic and so neither could Dorian. Anders guessed that Dorian’s father would pay a pretty penny to get his son back, not to mention his escaped slave.

“You’re both so pretty,” one slaver grinned at them. Marius, as Anders recalled. “I don’t know which of you I’ll want to fuck first.” Apparently, none of the slavers hadn’t recognized Anders yet.

They walked for nearly an hour until they reached a large system of caves. Once inside it was clear these caves were regularly used by slavers. There stood rows and rows of slave cages in the main chamber they were led through.

When they finally were led in front of the leader of the slaver gang, the man had his back to them. When he turned around Anders hung his head in despair. Atronis.

Atronis smiled lasciviously and walked directly towards Anders. “Well, well, well. What have we here? Did the little mage bird fly the coop and try to go back home again? Tsk, tsk.”

Anders shuddered in revulsion when Atronis cupped his face and forced him to look up. “I’d heard news that Danarius sold you before he was killed. Last I heard you were working in a brothel. Did you brain wash one of your clients into helping you escape?” Atronis looked knowingly at Dorian.

“Vishante kaffas!” Dorian shouted. “Do you have any idea who I am? Who my father is?!”

Atronis’ eyes lit up. “No, but pray tell me. Perhaps he would pay me good coin to return you to him.”

Dorian realized the mistake he almost made and clamped his mouth shut.

“Ah, you’re a stubborn one,” Atronis said. “but no matter. I can find out easily enough. I just need to see who the current owner of this pretty slave is. That should lead me to either you or your father’s name, I suspect. I’m sure the pair of you will fetch me good coin, regardless.”

“No!” Dorian protested. “Please let him go. I’ll go back with you willingly if you just let him go.”

“Dorian!” Anders protested. “You can’t sacrifice yourself for me.”

Dorian looked at Anders. “Yes, I can. You have suffered enough. If you go back, you’d likely be executed or at the very least made Tranquil. I won’t allow it.”

Atronis laughed. “You, my friend, are in no position to allow anything.”

Dorian hung his head in defeat.

“Throw them in the cages,” Atronis ordered. “I think we’ll have some very interesting dessert tonight boys.”

Before they were taken away Atronis came very close to Anders. “I’ve really missed our morning fucks. I’m going to enjoy having you back in my company for a few weeks.”

Anders cringed, feeling ill at the prospect of sexually serving the slavers again.

Anders and Dorian were thrown into separate cages and then left alone. “Fuck. Dorian I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault,” Dorian admonished him. “Stop blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong. These things are completely out of your control.”

“No, Dorian,” Anders countered. “I should have known better. I helped Hawke numerous times clear out these slaver caves and I should have known we were getting close to the area where they usually hide out. I should have been more careful or at least warned you.”

“Take a deep breath,” Dorian instructed. “When you were last taken, you were alone, right? This time you have me. Between the two of us we stand a better chance. Just keep your eyes open for an opportunity. Don’t give up yet.”

Anders nodded and took the suggested deep breath. “You’re right.”

***

After the slavers had finished their dinner they came back to drag the mages back to the main living area. They were both stripped naked and tied down over tables in such a way that both their mouths and asses could be easily accessed.

“I get dibs on the blonde one,” Atronis declared. “You boys can start with the Altus. Just don’t do anything that will leave scars. That will lower his value.”

Atronis then approached Anders and began to take off his belt. “First things first, boy. When I last saw you, you were very disrespectful. Slaves must remember their place. I wasn’t strict enough with you and that was my fault. I’m going to punish you now for your rudeness then, and I’ll make sure to remind you of your place until we get you back to your rightful master.”

“I am his rightful master, you blighted idiot!” Dorian yelled from the other table as the slavers were beginning to touch him.

“I can’t rightly believe that,” Atronis replied over his shoulder. “A Tevinter Magister wouldn’t be sneaking along the coast wearing simple rough spun like a commoner.”

Dorian wanted to protest but he had several dirty fingers shoved into his mouth at that moment.

Atronis returned his attention to Anders. “I have been wanting to warm that fine freckled ass of yours since last we met. I’m glad I finally get the chance.”

Without further hesitation, Atronis began to reign down blows from his belt onto Anders upturned ass and thighs. The mage cried out and struggled against his bonds, tears streaming down his face. Suddenly Anders felt something else. His connection to the Fade was beginning to return. The magebane was wearing off faster than expected, probably due to the adrenaline rush from his beating.

Anders began to cry out louder, to encourage Atronis to beat him even harder, wanting to spike the adrenaline in his system even more. Soon Anders could feel the full force of his magic and he began to gather it slowly, until he had just what he needed.

Atronis didn’t know what hit him when Anders practically exploded with electricity, which burnt through the ropes binding him. He rose and looked down at Atronis, and he grinned darkly as he remembered something he used to say when he and Hawke would battle together.

“I will show you why mages are feared!” Anders cried out, sending a bolt of lightning through Atronis so powerful, all that was left of the man was a smoldering, scorched corpse.

Anders then turned his attention to the other slavers, who had since begun to scatter, grabbing weapons and one who looked like he was trying to re-poison some darts with magebane. Anders lashed out at him first with another bolt of lightning, before turning to the others. Dorian’s magic must have also returned because suddenly the Altus was beside him, throwing fireballs at the remaining slavers, immolating them.

Soon Anders and Dorian were the only two left standing. None of the slavers had even gotten near them. Anders breathed a sigh of relief as he sent waves of healing across his tender ass. “Do you need any healing?” Anders asked.

Dorian shook his head. “No, they hadn’t done much more than touch me, thank the Maker!”

“Good. I guess you were right, between the two of us we easily outmatched them,” Anders conceded. “Although it helped that they forgot to put us in magic suppression collars. That was a lucky break.”

Dorian nodded in agreement.

“Now since we’re here, I think we should loot whatever valuables they had,” Anders suggested. “It’s not like they will be needing them anymore.”

They found a substantial stash of gold, which Dorian insisted they split. They also found some powerfully enchanted staves, and Dorian came across a very rare edition on a book of magic. “What a marvelous find!”

Anders laughed.

They also found a stash of what looked like new clothes, including some enchanted mage robes. “These are tempting but I’m still afraid to dress too much like a mage in broad daylight.”

“You may be right,” Dorian agreed. “Let’s pack them up though. They are really fine quality.”

Soon they were dressed and had the horses loaded up with what they had looted.

“I don’t feel comfortable remaining here overnight,” Anders confessed. “With all that adrenaline, I couldn’t sleep now anyway. Are you up for traveling for a few more hours?”

Dorian agreed and they got back on their way, going through the forest back towards the coast and then onwards towards Kirkwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was a close call! ;) 
> 
> Alright for those of you cringing at anything rapey, that was the last chapter in this saga with any of that element. The rollercoaster is far from over, but there will be no more sexual abuse forced upon poor Anders.


	12. Kirkwall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Anders make it to Kirkwall and have a chat with Merrill.

**9:40 Dragon**.

As Anders and Dorian crested the next ridge, the city of Kirkwall finally came within view as it stood in stark relief against the backdrop of the Vimmark Mountains. The city was still a half-day’s ride distant but even from here Anders could see the change in the skyline.

Anders reigned in his horse and came to a full stop, just taking in the sight of the city he’d called home for nearly 7 years before he’d been kidnapped. That was nearly four years ago now and Anders hadn’t thought he’d ever see this city again. Tears welled in his eyes when he realized he was now almost back to the only place he still considered home.

“I’d traveled here before with my father, some years ago,” Dorian remarked. “I don’t even recall why he needed to come here, but he brought me along and we had made a _little adventure_ out of it.”

Anders looked over at Dorian sadly. “I take it that you and your father were once close?”

Dorian sighed. “Well certainly closer than we are now.”

Anders nodded.

“It is rather shocking to see the city without the Chantry spires rising up, isn’t it?” Dorian said, changing the topic.

“Yeah, it’s kind of eerie coming back to that,” Anders agreed, as he continued to stare at where the spires once were, feeling a wave of guilt roll through him.

***

By the time they had reached the city, evening had fallen. Anders led them through Lowtown, towards the Hanged Man where he hoped Varric was still in residence. As he and Dorian secured their horses he remembered the last time he’d been here. “The night I was kidnapped, I’d been playing Wicked Grace with Hawke and everyone. I kept losing and Fenris was being grouchy, as usual, so I left early and headed back down to Darktown alone.”

“Remind me not to let you wander these streets alone,” Dorian frowned.

“I was prepared if they had attacked me in the streets,” Anders explained, as he removed his pack from his horse and slung it over his shoulder. “I wasn’t prepared for them to be lying in wait for me at my clinic. They had me completely surrounded.”

They made their way inside and the sight of Corff behind the bar nearly made Anders weep. “Corff! You’re still here!”

The barkeep looked at Anders in shock. “Anders? Is that really you? Where in the Maker’s name have you been?!”

“It’s a very long story,” Anders replied. “Perhaps I’ll tell it to you over an ale. Is Varric in?”

Corff shook his head, frowning. “No, he disappeared some time ago. No one has seen him in months.”

“That’s concerning,” Anders replied. “Do you know if Merrill still lives in the Alienage?”

Corff nodded. “I still see her in the market occasionally, but she’s stopped coming here after Varric disappeared.”

Anders and Dorian booked a room and secured their packs before heading out into the dusk. “Follow me,” Anders directed. “The Alienage isn’t far from here.”

Anders led the way, remembering the layout of the streets as if he had just walked them yesterday. As they descended the steps into the Alienage, the elves they passed all gave Dorian very suspicious glares and the Altus returned an almost apologetic look.

Outside of Merrill’s home, Anders paused. “Remember, she’s Dalish and she doesn’t believe blood magic is necessarily evil. If you don’t want her to go on a tangent and spend hours listening to her reasoning, I wouldn’t mention it.”

Dorian nodded and then Anders knocked on the door. They could hear movement inside, including some clumsy clattering before Merrill opened the door.

The moment Merrill recognized Anders her eyes went wide in surprise, before she flung herself at him and gave him a hug. “Anders?! Is that really you? Why of course it is. Who else could it be? Creators where have you been?”

Anders chuckled. “It’s good to see you too Merrill. It’s a long story and I could use your help. May we come in? This is my friend, Dorian.”

Merrill looked at Dorian as if seeing him for the first time. “Oh my, aren’t you tall, dark and handsome?”

“Why thank you my lady,” Dorian flirted, winking at Anders.

Once they were inside Merrill insisted on making them all a pot of tea. While she flitted around preparing, she kept asking questions and barely letting Anders or Dorian get a word in edgewise.

“I’m glad to see you haven’t changed a bit, Merrill,” Anders said once Merrill took a breath.

“Well you certainly have,” Merrill took note. “I liked you better with feathers.”

Anders sighed. “I miss that coat. It was my favorite coat. The slavers just cut it right off of me and burned it.”

“What is this about feathers?” Dorian asked.

Anders laughed. “I used to always have feathered pauldrons on my robes,” he explained. “It was the height of mage fashion once.”

Merrill giggled. “Well it was certainly the height of Anders’ fashion,” she teased.

Anders told Merrill the highlights, and lowlights, of what had happened to him over the past four years and then explained his current problem. “Once Dorian helped me unlock my collar, my magic came rushing back to me, but Justice has remained silent. I was wondering, do you know a way to see if he’s still there?”

“Oh my,” Merrill said, thinking. “I’m not sure. I’d have to consult some of my books. I’ve never heard of a possessed mage remaining under magical suppression for so long. It’s entirely possible that Justice died if he was cut off from you and the Fade for so long.”

Anders felt a pang of sadness. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“Oh don’t worry yourself just yet,” Merrill tried to reassure him. “Let me study the problem. Perhaps he’s just hibernating deep within your mind. I’ll try to figure out a way to know for sure.”

“Thanks, Merrill,” Anders said gratefully. “Would you like to join us for dinner at the Hanged Man? I think I recall you enjoyed Corff’s stew? It’s my treat.”

“Oh thank you, I would love to!” Merrill smiled eagerly. “I haven’t been by there since poor Varric went missing.”

***

Once they were all settled in at the Hanged Man and having their dinner, Anders began to question Merrill. “So tell me, exactly what happened after I was taken?”

“Oh, we were all so worried for you,” Merrill began. “I think it was Fenris who went to check on you, and found the corpses in your clinic. Hawke had us searching for you for weeks. I think we cleared out every slaver den along the wounded coast from Ostwick to Cumberland. Once we realized you must have been put on a ship to Tevinter, Hawke became very angry about it and even Fenris was upset.”

“Fenris was upset that I was gone? I wish I had been here to see that! Well I’m glad to know that all of you put in an effort to find me,” Anders said. “They did put me on a ship less than an hour after they grabbed me.”

“Yes, that’s what Hawke finally found out,” Merrill recalled. “By then it was too late. At first Hawke wanted to go after you, but then Danarius came to Kirkwall. Can you believe he tried to offer to buy Fenris from Hawke? What a disgusting man. Not long after that all the trouble began to brew with Meredith and Hawke never got the chance.”

“Yes, I can believe it,” Anders replied. “I saw exactly how much cruelty that man was capable of. If I ever see Fenris again, I have a lot of apologizing to do.”

“Oh well, Fenris is still in Kirkwall,” Merrill revealed. “Still holed up in that dilapidated mansion of his.”

“He didn’t leave Kirkwall with Hawke?” Anders asked.

Merrill shook her head. “No. Fenris was very angry with Hawke for blowing up the Chantry and killing all those innocent people, especially his friend Sebastian.”

“That’s right, I’d forgotten that he and Sebastian had become friends,” Anders frowned. “So Sebastian died in the Chantry explosion?”

Merrill nodded. “I’m afraid so. Hawke found out that Meredith had called for the Rite of Annulment and he was so angry he set off the spell right then and there. Sebastian had gone to talk to Elthina to stop the Rite but Hawke didn’t even think, he just reacted.”

Anders hung his head, still feeling a twist of guilt in his gut. “Oh Hawke, what have you done?” Anders asked to no one in particular. Dorian reached out and put a reassuring hand on the mage’s shoulder.

***

Merrill left them so she could go and study the problem regarding Justice, so Anders and Dorian retired for the night. “I hate to tell you this,” Dorian said once they were in their room. “But I think this is probably the worst dump I’ve ever stayed in.”

Anders smirked. “I know, but this feels more like home to me than all the fancy silk sheets in Tevinter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter just to move the plot along, just getting Anders and Dorian settled in a bit. I usually never write Merrill, so I hope I captured her voice well enough.


	13. Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders is reunited with more old friends.

**9:40 Dragon**

The next morning, the two mages decided to risk wearing the fancy robes they’d found before Anders took Dorian up to Hightown. They decided to have breakfast in a little Orlesian bistro Anders had always wanted to eat at, but could never afford. Back then he never had enough coin, and Justice wouldn’t have approved of such a wasteful use of time.

“Now this is more like it,” Dorian smiled as he finished his last sip of the finest Rivaini coffee Kirkwall had to offer. “I feel almost like myself again.” Anders just shook his head and laughed.

After they finished and began to wander through Hightown, Anders had an idea. “I know you’re not fond of staying at the Hanged Man. What if we broke into Hawke’s mansion and stayed there? He’s not returning anytime soon and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I made myself at home there. He was always offering any one of us a room at his mansion if we wanted to stay there instead of our respective hovels. For some reason, none of us ever took up his offer though.”

Dorian readily agreed. “A Hightown mansion would suit me much better.”

As they rounded the corner they saw the remains of the Chantry. The rubble still hadn’t been completely cleared. It was quite shocking to see the ruin of the place Anders hated the most in Kirkwall and he wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Shaking his head, he led Dorian up the stairs towards the mansion district. As they rounded another corner towards Hawke’s estate, Anders ran right into the last person he expected. _Fenris_.

Anders initial reaction was one of joy. “Fenris!!”

Fenris jumped back, startled and was about to reach for his sword when he recognized the mage in front of him. “Anders?!”

Fenris looked like he almost wanted to hug Anders, but he kept himself in careful check, much like he had always done.

“I finally made it out of that hell-hole,” Anders acknowledged. “Dorian and I here have been on the run from his father for months now.”

Fenris looked more closely at Anders’ companion and his eyes narrowed. “Why do you look vaguely familiar?”

“Oh, I bet it’s the mustache, I don’t suppose I’d grown it yet the last we met,” Dorian shrugged. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of Minrathous.”

“Oh yes, I recall now. No, you hadn’t grown in the mustache yet,” Fenris remembered. “You were quite a bit younger too.”

“So, you both know each other?” Anders asked, reminding them of his existence. “I thought you’d only heard of Fenris?”

“Yes, well, we did have a brief encounter,” Dorian admitted. “I came across Danarius out in the market with Fenris and he was being absolutely deplorable to him. I think it was perhaps one of the first times you’d been out after receiving your markings, if I recall correctly?”

Fenris nodded. “Yes, I had finished my training as his body guard and so I accompanied him that day. The market was crowded and some child accidentally collided with Danarius and I failed to prevent it. Danarius was so angry he dragged me to a public whipping post and was punishing me right in the middle of the market.”

“Such a horrid practice,” Dorian interjected. “I saw it happening and while everyone else just ignored it and went about their business, I was horrified. I remember walking up to Danarius mid strike and tearing the whip out of his hands and gave him quite the talking to.”

Fenris smiled at the recollection. “Yes. You were the only person to stand up for me against Danarius in Tevinter. I was still punished once we’d returned to his estate, but knowing there were a few like you who objected to such treatment helped me bear it. For that I am still grateful. So, tell me, why are you in the company of this _abomination_?”

“ _Fenris_ ,” Anders said with exasperation. “Please, let’s not do this now. There is a lot I need to say to you and I owe you so many apologies.”

Fenris sighed. “Alright. However, we cannot remain here.”

“We were going to try and break into Hawke’s mansion,” Anders winked. “It’s not like he’s currently using it.”

Fenris contemplated for a moment before he nodded gruffly and followed as Anders led the way. Once they were at the estate, Anders used his magic to manipulate the locks and soon they were inside. The once welcoming atmosphere was now dark and foreboding, everything moldering under layers of dust.

“Allow me,” Dorian said, as he gave a twist of his wrist and lit the lamps and fireplace. With another twist he magically removed all the dust. “Ah yes, much better.”

Fenris grumbled under his breath about mages and casual use of magic.

“Fenris, do you think there might still be any wine down in the cellars?” Anders asked. “I think we’re in for a long afternoon and it will require plenty of wine.”

Fenris shrugged. “I have no idea, but I’ll check. I recall where he kept his best vintages.”

“Excellent!” Dorian exclaimed. “Although anything will be better than the swill Corff served us last night.”

Fenris smirked at that. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that a Tevinter Magister would willingly step foot in the Hanged Man. Especially not after Danarius.”

“Is that where you killed him?” Dorian inquired and Fenris nodded. “Well, I can’t think of a more fitting end for such a horrid person.”

Fenris then went off in search of the wine while Anders and Dorian made their way up to the library, lighting lamps and clearing out dust along the way.

“My what a charming little library,” Dorian praised as he lit the fireplace. “Quite cozy in fact.”

Dorian and Anders rearranged the chairs and couch so all three of them would be able to sit and talk. Fenris reappeared, carrying four bottles of wine, including a couple of Aggregio Pavali. “Fenris, you are maker sent. That’s my favorite vintage!”

“It’s every _Magister’s_ favorite vintage. That’s why I relish drinking it so much,” Fenris confessed. “I’m sure they would be appalled to see a _slave_ helping himself to one of their finest wines.”

They all settled in then and Anders took a deep breath, looking over at Fenris. “First, before everything devolves into name calling and bickering again, which always seems to happen between us, I must apologize to you Fenris.”

“Yes, you mentioned that earlier,” Fenris replied after he took a long draught of his bottle of wine. “So exactly what are you apologizing for?”

“I’m sorry for not listening to you all those years ago, and I’m sorry for mocking your experience as a slave,” Anders began. “I know now that everything you said was true. I couldn’t bring myself to believe it back then but I believe every word now and I’m just so sorry. I am sorry that you had to go through that and sorry that I mocked you for it. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

Fenris stared at him for moment. “I think you had best explain what happened to you,” Fenris prompted.

Anders then recounted everything, from being kidnapped to escaping Tevinter with Dorian. “I am sorry you had to suffer all of that, _mage_ ,” Fenris apologized, his normal epithet for Anders sounding more fond than usual. “I am also sorry that it took putting you through those experiences to open your eyes to the truth about Tevinter. No one should have to suffer any of that abuse.”

“I quite agree,” Dorian sighed. “I swear if there was a way to change that, I’d try to do something.”

“So, what of your demon, _mage_?” Fenris changed the subject.

Anders shook his head, ignoring the obvious insult for now. “I don’t know. Ever since the suppression collar was removed, I haven’t felt or heard his presence. He was cut off from me through the collar all these years.”

“So, Justice is gone? Did the demon die?” Fenris queried.

Anders sighed. “He was…is…a spirit, not a demon. I don’t want to fight but I do wish you would acknowledge the difference at least once.”

“Fine, did the _spirit_ die?” Fenris asked in an exasperated tone.

“We’re not sure. We spoke to Merrill yesterday and she is _looking into it_ ,” Anders replied. “She knows far more about demons and spirits than I do.”

“Does she have any speculation?” Fenris asked.

“Her first assumption is that Justice died, having been cut off from the Fade and me for so long,” Anders replied. “We’re just not sure right now.” Anders covered his face with his hands for a few moments before rubbing and running his hands up through his currently loose hair.

Fenris’ expression grew soft for a moment. “You are worried for your friend,” he stated simply.

Anders looked up at Fenris then and nodded. “I know how you felt about him, but you didn’t get to know him like I did. We fought side-by-side in the Grey Wardens. He saved my life countless times. If he’s truly gone, I will miss him.”

Fenris took a breath and looked down at his feet, and mumbled. “ _I missed you_.”

Anders almost didn’t catch it at first and when he realized what Fenris had said, his breath caught in his throat.

Before Anders could respond Fenris continued. “We all missed you, mage. Everything went to shit after you were taken. Hawke became more and more radical and he wouldn’t listen to reason. He became obsessed with sending the Chantry a message, of completing the work you had begun, of freeing the mages.”

Fenris was about to continue when a loud clatter was heard from the foyer. Anders, Fenris and Dorian ran to the railing and looked down to see city guardsmen barging into the great room below. Then behind them strode in an angry looking strawberry blonde woman.

Anders grinned from ear-to-ear. “Aveline!!!”

Aveline startled and looked up, the look of consternation on her face melted into surprise before she broke into an uncharacteristic smile. “Anders?! Is that you?”

Anders ran down as Aveline ran up. Aveline grabbed the mage and picked him up and gave him a big hug. “Maker where have you been?”

Anders shook his head, laughing. “I just finished telling Fenris what happened. Why are you here?”

“Someone reported seeing light coming from the Hawke Estate for the first time since the Chantry explosion,” Aveline explained. “I thought perhaps Hawke was stupid enough to come back and I was going to arrest him.”

“You would do that to Hawke?” Anders asked.

“It would be the only way to keep his idiotic hide safe from the Templars, so yes, I would,” Aveline clarified.

Aveline then turned and told her guards that it was a false alarm and to go back to their routine patrols. She then followed Anders up to the study. “Fenris, you’re looking well.”

“As are you, how is Donnic?” Fenris asked.

“He’s good. He was asking about you the other day,” Aveline replied. “We keep thinking we should have you over for supper one evening.”

“I’d like that,” Fenris replied with a smile. “Let me fetch some more wine.”

“Aveline,” Anders began. “I’d like you to meet my friend Dorian.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Dorian said suavely, taking Aveline’s hand and kissing it. “You’re the Captain of the Guard here in Kirkwall, correct?”

Aveline blushed and nodded. They all sat and Anders related an abridged version of what he’d told Fenris.

“That’s awful. I’m so glad you made it out of there,” Aveline frowned. “I’m sorry we were never able to try and mount a rescue. Soon after Hawke found out where you were, everything fell apart here. After the Chantry was destroyed and the Circle rebelled…nothing was the same after and once Hawke fled, our group just fell apart. Now that Varric has gone missing too, I just have been beside myself.”

“Is anyone still running my old clinic?” Anders asked.

Aveline shook her head. “No. Lirene left Kirkwall after all the fighting died down. She had family in Ostwick she went to stay with.”

“Perhaps I should re-open it then,” Anders suggested. “I know the people in Darktown always have a need.”

“That would be wonderful,” Aveline said. “We’ve had several outbreaks since you left and no one to stem the spread. People began to realize how much they had relied on you after you were gone.”

Fenris returned then with a couple more bottles of wine and they talked long into the night. Aveline said she would give Anders the keys to the Hawke estate and that he could live there as long as he liked. She didn’t expect Hawke to return anytime soon.

The sun was starting to rise when they decided it to call it a night. Aveline left to go home to Donnic, while Fenris chose to remain and made his way to one of the guest rooms. Anders decided to be cheeky and take the master bedroom, where Hawke used to sleep. Dorian felt a bit out of place and wasn’t sure what he should do and Anders took his hand and led him to the master bedroom.

“Are you sure?” Dorian asked. “I know we’ve been forced to share a bed for so long, but it really isn’t necessary. I could take one of the other guest rooms.”

“I’ve gotten used to sharing with you Dorian,” Anders confessed. “We haven’t figured out exactly what we’re going to do about anything yet. Let’s not try and start right now. I just want to sleep.”

“Alright,” Dorian smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken twelve chapters for me to bring Fenris back into the story. Let the Fenders slow burn begin! :)


	14. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Anders confess some things to each other in private, then Fenris helps Anders check out his old clinic.

**9:40 Dragon.**

The next morning, Anders was surprised to find Fenris preparing a simple breakfast for all of them in the kitchen. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

Fenris smirked. “I learned some new skills in the past few years,” Fenris shrugged. They mostly ate in silence, still processing everything that had been discussed the night before. Dorian noted the little looks Anders and Fenris kept sneaking at each other while pretending to focus entirely on the plate of food in front of them.

After breakfast Dorian excused himself. “I feel like stretching my legs a bit,” he explained. “I’ll go fetch the horses and our things. You two stay here and catch up.” Dorian winked at Anders as he left the room.

For the first time since they had literally run into each other the day before, Anders and Fenris found themselves alone together. Looking across the kitchen table at Fenris, Anders decided to break the ice.

“Last night,” Anders began. “You said you missed me? Did I hear that right?”

Fenris blushed, all the way to the tips of his ears. “Yes, you did, you infuriating mage.”

Fenris flicked his eyes up at Anders then. “I was the one who went to check on you that night. If I had gone sooner…”

“Oh Fenris!” Anders said, realizing the elf had been blaming himself all this time. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Let me finish,” Fenris took a breath. “We discovered you were taken by slavers hired by Danarius. When he showed up in Kirkwall with Varania, I feared the worst, that you had been killed. I couldn’t help but feel that somehow I was to blame.”

“You weren’t,” Anders reassured the elf. “The slavers tried to make a deal with me. They had watched us argue and they thought they could convince me to help trap you. I refused, so they took me instead.”

“What?!” Fenris looked shocked. “You…sacrificed yourself for me?”

“Of course, fool elf,” Anders confirmed. “Despite the fighting, I still considered you a friend. You had plenty of chances to hand me over to the Templars and you never did. Why would I betray you and hand you over to the slavers? That would have been _unjust_.”

Fenris smirked at the obvious pun. “Was Kirkwall the only place you thought to come to after you and Dorian escaped?”

“This was the last place I thought of as home,” Anders explained. “Also I missed my friends. Including you,” Anders admitted. A blush creeped across his face as he made his next confession. “Maybe especially you.”

Fenris wasn’t sure how to react to Anders confession. “Why are you telling me this? I thought you and the…Dorian….were?”

Anders chuckled. “No. Dorian and I, well we have been lovers, I won’t deny that, but we’re not together. He’s suspected for a while now that my heart belonged to another.”

Fenris looked confused.

“All I thought about while I was in Tevinter was you.” Anders confessed. “I focused on all of our arguments, and how wrong I was not to believe you. I needed to come back and let you know how very sorry I am. In the middle of all that I came to realize how much I actually cared about you. I had no way to know if you were alright and I worried about you every day until Dorian told me the news of Danarius’ death at your hands.”

“We spent so much time arguing,” Fenris said shaking his head. “I also had come to care for you but I didn’t know how to stop arguing with you. That’s one reason I felt so guilty for not coming to check on you earlier that night. I regretted never telling you how I felt.”

Tears welled in Anders’ eyes as he reached out and took Fenris’ hand in his. “Well you just did, and I am so happy to hear that.”

Fenris withdrew his hand and took a deep breath. “A lot of my fears about mages were realized when Hawke blew up the Chantry. The fact that Sebastian was inside and he knew. _He knew._ ” Fenris’ tightened his hand into a fist.

“Please understand,” Fenris continued. “I never trusted mages because of what I witnessed in Tevinter. I didn’t want to trust Hawke, Merrill or you, but I learned to. Hawke was always championing the cause of everyone in this city. You were running your free clinic and helping anyone and everyone who needed it. Even Merrill showed restraint despite her frequent use of blood magic.”

Anders eyes had become sad. “I understand,” Anders replied, withdrawing his own hand. “I do hope we can remain friends, at least?”

“No, I don’t think you do understand,” Fenris looked at Anders. “Despite everything, I do still care for you. That much I came to realize after we talked last night. But I need time. Time to learn to trust you again.”

“Ok,” Anders nodded. “I can give you that.”

“Shall we take a look at what remains of your clinic?” Fenris suggested.

Anders left Dorian a note before they made their way into the cellars and down into the tunnels that led to Darktown. The entrance was once again boarded over but Fenris made quick work of them. “We will need to put a more secure door in place here.” Anders nodded in agreement.

Anders turned and faced what had been the entrance to his clinic. The tattered remains of the lantern still hung there. Anders’ hand trembled as he reached out to open the door. Fenris put his hand over his to help steady it, making Anders smile.

Once inside, Anders used his magic to light the lanterns, causing Fenris to hiss in annoyance. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I guess I spent too much time around Dorian lately.”

Fenris huffed. “It’s alright. I’m just not used to mages being so free with their magic anymore.”

Anders frowned at that but said nothing. Looking around he noted how neat and tidy everything was, despite the layers of dust.

“Someone cleaned after I was taken,” Anders commented.

“Yes,” Fenris said. “Hawke insisted we clean and restock your clinic just in case you ever came back. Varric even had the Carta keeping an eye on it so looters wouldn’t break in.”

Anders walked over to the spot where he’d been collared. Some faint scorch marks remained in the floor where Justice had lashed out at the first of the slavers who tried to grab him. He sunk to his knees then, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m home,” Anders cried. “I never thought I’d be able to come back.”

“Hush, _mage_ ,” Fenris said, sinking to his knees next to Anders. “You made it. You survived. Now is the time to look forward.”

Anders nodded. “Thank you.”

The rest of the afternoon Anders and Fenris spent time cleaning and taking stock of everything in the clinic. “With Lirene gone, I’ll need someone else to help out when I’m not available. Has there been anyone trying to help the sick or injured? Even someone who is a simple herbalist would be useful.”

“I’m not sure, but we can ask Aveline,” Fenris suggested. “Let’s go back to the estate and bring that list you made. We can go shopping for the missing supplies tomorrow.”

Anders nodded and they turned to leave when they saw someone duck their head into the doorway. “Healer?! Is that really you?”

Anders gave a knowing smile. The older woman had been one of Anders’ regular patients. “Marian, it’s good to see you. Is your back acting up again?”

“Oh it really is you!” The woman came over and hugged him. “Yes, my back has been hurting something awful today. Are you really back?”

“I am back but I’m not ready to reopen the clinic just yet. I need a few days, so please don’t spread the word until I’m ready,” Anders confirmed. “However I think can do something for your back. Come sit on a cot.”

Marian sat down and Anders let his healing magic flow, helping to ease the woman’s arthritis. It wasn’t a condition he could permanently heal, but he was able to ease the inflammation and reduce the pain and stiffness.

Fenris just stood back and watched as Anders spoke softly to the grateful woman. This was the Anders he had come to care for all those years ago. Always selfless, working for long hours in his clinic and never turning away anyone who needed it.

Once Anders was done and Marian went on her way, after thanking the healer profusely, they locked up the clinic and made their way back up into the Hawke Estate.

“I need to ask something of you, Anders,” Fenris said as they were making their way through the cellars. “Before you always worked yourself to the bone. You didn’t get enough rest or food. Promise me you’ll take better care of yourself.”

Anders nodded. “I promise. I think Justice was the main reason I pushed myself so hard before. He didn’t understand the concept of sleep or food, since he never needed it in the Fade, and his first host was a dead corpse.”

“Well I’d prefer that you didn’t end up a dead corpse,” Fenris said. “Not anytime soon anyway.”

***

As they reached the main level of the estate, they found Dorian. “Well there you two are. Thanks for the note, or I would have thought you had run off without me!”

“We were down in my clinic, I needed to assess what had to be done before I could open it again,” Anders explained. “It will take a few days but I think I should be able to reopen by early next week.”

Anders then realized he smelled food. “Did you cook?”

Dorian shook his head and laughed. “Do you think I know how to cook?”

“Then who?” Anders wondered as they walked towards the kitchen.

“Master Anders!” a lithe female elf exclaimed. “It’s true you are back!”

“Orana?! What in the world are you doing here?” Anders exclaimed, grabbing the elf and giving her a hug.

“Mistress Aveline told me you were back, and that perhaps you might be needing some help?” Orana explained. “She told me that she’s working to put the deed of this estate in your name and I’d like to offer my services to you, if you’ll let me?”

“Oh, Orana, you know you’re always welcome, as long as you let me pay you,” Anders said with a wink. “And you’re right, I definitely need some help, here and down in the clinic if you would like to assist me there?”

Orana clapped her hands. “Yes, I’d like that very much!”

Dorian looked at him quizzically. “Oh right, you haven’t met each other yet. Dorian, this is Orana. She was a former slave of Hadriana. Hawke took her in as a servant after Fenris killed her Mistress.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dorian bowed, taking Orana’s hand and kissing it. Orana was in complete shock. A Tevinter of clearly Altus class had just greeted her as an equal.

“It’s alright Orana,” Anders smiled. “He won’t bite. He’s on the run as much as I am. We both escaped from his father.”

“Oh my,” Orana breathed again. “Let’s hope they don’t try to find you here. I’d hate for you to go missing again!”

***

They all gathered around the dining room, and Anders insisted on helping Orana serve. Anders also insisted Orana join them for the meal. She hadn’t felt comfortable doing it when she was serving Hawke and his mother, but with the motley crew currently assembled she acquiesced, and set herself a place at the table.

Anders looked around and tears welled in his eyes again. “I still can’t believe I’m home and that this time I might have a real chance of making Kirkwall an actual home. No more hiding from Templars or slavers. Well at least until the next crisis hits, anyway.”

Just then a knock came to the front door. “I’ll get it!” Orana insisted. Anders followed out of curiosity and found Aveline in the foyer. “I came by to see how you and Orana are getting along. You don’t mind do you?”

Anders shook his head. “No, I’m grateful for the help. She said something about giving me the deed to the estate?”

Aveline grinned. “It’s actually something Varric had been working on. He took ownership of the estate when Hawke fled the city. He gave me a copy of the deed, _just in case_. Well since you need a place to live, and it has direct access to your clinic, that it would be the perfect use for the estate.”

“Thank you,” Anders said. “Would you care to join us for supper? I believe Orana outdid herself.”

“I should get back,” Aveline shook her head. “But perhaps later this week Donnic and I can both join you?”

“Absolutely!” Anders agreed. “Let’s invite Merrill too. The more the merrier.”

***

After dinner Anders, Dorian and Fenris shared more wine together in the study.

“I must talk to your friend Aveline,” Dorian announced. “I wonder if she may have heard any news regarding Venatori activity in the area. I know they were planning to come south, although I don’t know exactly why.”

“Who are the Venatori?” Fenris asked. Dorian explained and Fenris’ face formed a disgusted scowl. “I bet these Venatori are the same ilk that used to fawn at Danarius’ feet.”

“I believe you’re probably right,” Dorian agreed. “Do you recall any of their names?”

Fenris nodded. Dorian grabbed a sheaf of paper, an inkwell and a pen from the desk in the study and Fenris listed off all the names of Magisters and Alti he could recall.

Anders nodded. “I didn’t get to really know any of them, but many of those names sound familiar. I’m pretty sure at least half of them were at the one party Denarius held.”

“You were at one of his parties?” Fenris asked. Anders hadn’t given Fenris some of the more painful details of his time in Tevinter. The infamous party was one of them.

“Did…did he _use_ you, as a centerpiece?” Fenris asked hesitatingly.

Anders nodded. “And then there was a demon at the end.”

Fenris’ eyes flew open. “The lust demon?”

Anders nodded.

Fenris looked apologetic then. “I’m sorry you had to experience that,” he sympathized quietly.

Anders got up and knelt before Fenris. “Were you a centerpiece at a party like that?”

Fenris nodded. “Several times.”

“Oh Fen!” Anders cried and he reached out to embrace the elf. “I’m so sorry.”

The held each other for a while. Finally, Dorian broke the silence. “On behalf of all my countrymen, I really must apologize as well. Neither of you  deserved such horrific treatment. These Venatori reflect the absolute worst in Tevinter society and I am determined to bring them down.”

Anders and Fenris separated then. Fenris looked at Dorian. “I appreciate your efforts, but be careful. I do recall that Tevinter Magisters are second only to the Antivan Crows in effective assassinations.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Dorian agreed. “Well, I think I shall retire. Anders, I set myself up in one of the guestrooms tonight. I don’t think I should be sharing a room with you any longer.”

Anders blushed. “Um, thanks.”

After Dorian left the study, Anders looked a bit sheepishly at Fenris. “You’re welcome to continue to use the guestroom you stayed in last night if you wish,” Anders offered. “It’s late and it’s probably safer if you just slept here.”

“The walk to my home is not far,” Fenris shrugged, but when he saw Anders face slip into a frown he added. “However, the bed here is more comfortable so perhaps I will remain.”

Anders face lit up and he smiled at the elf. “You won’t need to make breakfast tomorrow. I’m sure Orana will be up before all of us.”

“Yes, I’m sure she will,” Fenris agreed. “I will never understand her obsession with serving humans.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Anders shrugged. “I think she just enjoys doing things for others. It’s the same reason why I loved running my clinic.”

Fenris nodded in understanding. “You definitely seem happiest when you’re helping others. Otherwise I’m sure you wouldn’t have followed along on all of Hawke’s crazy adventures every time he sought your aid.”

“True enough,” Anders agreed with a yawn. “Well I think it’s time for me to get some sleep. Good night, Fenris.”

“Good night, _mage_ ,” Fenris replied as he rose and made his way to the guestroom he had occupied the night before.

***

Sometime in the middle of the night, Anders awoke, screaming. He had been dreaming of being whipped and raped repeatedly, scenes of his enslavement replaying in his mind over and over.

Fenris’ room was closest to Anders’ and he heard the screams and came running. “Anders, what’s wrong?”

“Fenris?” Anders said weakly, still sobbing. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Fenris came to sit on the bed next to the visibly upset mage. “Were you having a nightmare?”

Anders nodded. “First time that’s happened since I was let out of the cell at the Pavus mansion. I’m not sure what triggered it.”

“Wait here,” Fenris instructed and we left the room.

Fenris came back with a chalice of water and helped Anders drink.

“Thank you Fenris,” Anders smiled gratefully, still trembling slightly.

Fenris frowned. “Would you like me to stay? Until you fall asleep?”

Anders nodded. “That would help, yes. Thanks.”

Fenris got up and slid into the other side of the large bed, propping himself up with extra pillows. “I will watch over you until you are asleep again.”

Anders tucked himself under the covers and let himself relax in Fenris’ presence. The next thing Anders knew, there was sunshine streaming in from the windows. As he blinked away the sleep in his eyes, he realized that Fenris had fallen asleep beside him.

Anders gently tucked Fenris into the blankets and watched him. The elf seemed much younger when his features were relaxed in sleep. Anders just sighed with a smile and had more than a spark of hope for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are still going smoothly, for now. If you're paying attention to the dates at all, you may have a clue as to what may be going down soon though.


	15. Venatori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders comes into possession of the former Hawke estate and Dorian buys Danarius' estate from Fenris. After renovating the crumbling structure, Dorian hosts a party, where he finally hears word of the Venatori.

**9:40 Dragon**

Later that week everyone came over for dinner. Orana had been cooking all day for the occasion and Anders decided to surprise Fenris by purchasing his favorite apple tarts from the market to be served for dessert.

As they all sat down to dinner, the first topic everyone wanted to discuss was the progress on the clinic. “I think everything should be ready so I can re-open within the next day or two. With the coin I looted off the slavers we encountered on the way here from Cumberland, I managed to upgrade just about everything too. I have better cots, with much nicer sheets, blankets and even pillows,” Anders shared. “Oh, and Orana has been invaluable in helping me brew up a large batch of potions.”

Orana blushed. “It’s my pleasure to help, Ma…Anders. I’m sorry, I’m still not use to referring to you that way.”

“Remember that I spent time in Tevinter as a slave too,” Anders remined her. “Would you refer to a fellow slave as master?”

Orana shook her head.

“Oh, Aveline,” Dorian spoke up. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Before all my trouble with my father, I had been looking into the rise of a new radical group of Magisters in Tevinter, calling themselves the Venatori. I believe they were making plans to come south and I was wondering if you’ve had any trouble with them yet?”

Aveline shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of, but I will keep my ears open for any news.”

“Thank you,” Dorian said before turning his attention to Fenris. “I have a proposal for you, if I may?”

“What do you want, Altus?” Fenris scowled.

“I believe you currently occupy a run-down estate here in Hightown that may have previously been used by Danarius?” Dorian asked.

“Yes, why?” Fenris asked, his voice dripping with suspicion.

“It occurs to me that perhaps you may choose to start staying here instead, with Anders,” Dorian explained. “I really don’t want to be underfoot, so I would like to propose I purchase the estate from you and fix it up for myself.”

Fenris blushed when he realized that Dorian had just let everyone know that he and Anders were…becoming more than friends. “I…I will think on it.”

Merrill, being her usual confused self, had to ask. “Why would Fenris want to live here? He doesn’t like Anders very much. They’d just end up fighting all the time!”

The entire table broke out into laughter and Aveline whispered in Merrill’s ear, explaining what was going on. “Oh my,” Merrill said, covering her mouth in surprise and everyone laughed again.

***

After dinner Orana shooed everyone out and insisted on cleaning up herself, so they all went up to the study. Anders poured everyone a glass of wine before seating himself next to Fenris on the couch.

“Oh, uh Fenris,” Anders said, reaching out. “You have a bit of apple tart…right there.” Anders brushed the offending crumb from the corner of Fenris’ mouth while Fenris instinctually swatted his hand away.

“Right, then,” Aveline interrupted. “I have a couple of important things to get out of the way.”

“What’s going on Aveline?” Anders asked.

“First of all,” Aveline began taking a scroll out of her pack she had brought with her. “I am officially granting you the deed to this estate. The only thing I need is your surname at birth to make it official. You’ve always only gone by Anders so I didn’t know what to put down.”

Anders blushed. “Oh, um, it’s nothing special. My surname is Bauermann.”

Aveline crossed over to the desk and using the pen and inkwell, she wrote in the new estate name. “Hence force, this will be known as the Bauermann Estate.”

Anders stood and crossed over to Aveline and gave her a warm hug. “Thank you. For welcoming me back and for giving me a home.”

“After all you’ve been through,” Aveline shrugged. “It’s the least I could do. You have the full support of acting-Viscount Bran as well. I told him of how much good your clinic used to do for Kirkwall, and he’s agreed to make sure you get all the help you need to keep it running.”

“Maker bless you,” Anders breathed, tears of joy now streaming down his face. “Thank you so, so much.”

“There is one more thing,” Aveline said, as she moved away from Anders and sat down again. Anders rejoined Fenris on the couch and the elf put a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I received a letter today, that I thought all of you might find of interest,” Aveline explained. “It’s from Varric.”

“Varric! So, he is alive?” Anders exclaimed. “That’s good news!”

“Let me read his letter to you,” Aveline said.

_My Dearest Aveline,_

_I’m sure you’re probably worried when I disappeared some weeks ago and I felt I should write and explain. A contingent from the order of the Seekers of Truth paid me a visit in Kirkwall and persuaded me to come with them to a charming little hole in the wall known as Haven, which is located in the (literally) breathtaking Frostback Mountains._

_They’ve kept me here for questioning, thinking I might have some insight as to where our dear friend Garrett Hawke might be. Apparently, they want to talk to him (or something). Thankfully I don’t, at the present time, know where he’s hiding. They also wanted to know how much truth there was behind The Tale of the Champion so I’ve been spinning them a pretty tale about all our adventures as well._

_Things are starting to come to a head with the Templars and Mages and the Divine seems to have had just about enough of it. It seems they want to hold a Conclave next year, a meeting between the leaders of the Templars and Mages in order to resolve the conflict once and for all._

_They’ve finished questioning me, but I’ve decided to stick around and see what’s going to happen with this Conclave they have planned. I’ll send more information when I get a chance._

_Any news about Blondie yet?_

_Yours Truly,_

_Varric_

Everyone was quiet for a moment as they processed the information in that letter.

“Varric wrote a book about Hawke?” Anders asked. “Was I mentioned in it?”

Aveline nodded. “We all were. The chapter about you and how you were lost I think was the saddest one and it struck a chord with many people. It’s probably one reason why the mages have garnered a lot of sympathy across Thedas. A lot of people have been supporting their cause.”

Anders’ heart soared. “I don’t know if I can take any more good news,” he chuckled.

***

**Late 9:40 Dragon**

A couple of months later, and Fenris finally acquiesced to Dorian’s request and moved permanently into the Bauermann Estate with Anders, relinquishing his abandoned estate to Dorian. Aveline worked with acting-Viscount Bran and they signed the deed of that property over to the name of Dorian Pavus and it was now officially known as the Pavus Estate. Dorian also kept good on his promise and paid Fenris for the property. When Fenris protested, Dorian simply said. “Use it for the clinic or to pay Orana or whatever, if you don’t want to use it for yourself.”

Dorian then eagerly began working on restoring the estate to its former glory and planned for all the major renovations to be complete in time to host a New Year’s celebration for all of his new friends.

The clinic was thriving. Anders added a few more volunteers so he didn’t have to work himself to complete exhaustion like he did in the old days, and Orana and Fenris were often there helping as well. He also installed a special system, where his helpers in the clinic could ring for him up at the estate at any hour in case of an emergency that required his healing magic.

Anders had been corresponding regularly with Varric and the dwarf seemed ecstatic when he’d heard the news that _Blondie was Back in Town_. The news he reported in regards to the planned Conclave were encouraging. It seemed both sides were eager for an end to the hostilities. Anders was tempted to attend the Conclave but Fenris advised him not to.

“You never know what could happen,” Fenris cautioned. “You only just regained your freedom. Are you so eager to lose it again?”

“You’re right,” Anders agreed. “I’m finally free and happy and the people in Darktown need me. I shouldn’t invite trouble.”

***

The eve of the New Year found Anders and Fenris making their way over to the new Pavus Estate for the celebration that Dorian was holding.

“I find myself curious to see the renovations Dorian has made on my former abode,” Fenris admitted.

“I’m sure it will be better than the dead corpse and mushroom theme you had going,” Anders teased.

Fenris made a show of being annoyed with Anders, but the mage saw the look of fondness that crossed the elf’s face and he just let out a small laugh before grabbing Fenris’ hand and running the rest of the way.

“You really are just a large, overgrown child, aren’t you?” Fenris panted as they arrived and Anders knocked on the front door.

Anders turned to Fenris and just nodded and smiled broadly at him. Fenris shook his head but couldn’t hide the look of fondness in his eyes.

A servant opened the door to admit them into the foyer. Already they noticed the difference. The foyer itself was clean and bright, with a small chandelier hanging overhead. The stonework in the floor had been redone, with a mosaic of a peacock in the center.

“Wow,” Anders exclaimed as they walked into the main hall. The fireplace was lit and a grand chandelier hung from the high ceiling brightening up the room. The walls had been repainted, the floors redone, there was new art on the walls and a comfortable arrangement of furniture throughout the room.

Dorian emerged from the upstairs master bedroom that Fenris had previously occupied and waved down at his guests. “Anders! Fenris! Welcome. So, what do you think?”

“It’s amazing!” Anders praised. “I would have never recognized this as the same house!”

“You’re slightly early, so let me take you on the grand tour!” Dorian offered. They began with the downstairs and eventually worked their way up. Every room had been redone. Some were kept simple and used for storage. There were several guestrooms and several rooms set aside for servants. Dorian had hired a butler to oversee the staff, and he also had two maids and a cook. “Don’t you scowl at me Fenris. You know very well I was spoiled in my upbringing but I’m not harboring any slaves. They all are well-paid and they are under no obligation to live here. It’s entirely their choice. I am well aware that slavery is illegal outside of the Imperium.”

Fenris huffed approvingly. “Just make sure you treat them well.”

Soon other guests began to arrive. All their usual friends were invited, but Dorian had also extended invitations out to all the other nobles in Hightown, figuring this would be a good opportunity to get to know his new neighbors. The nobles were all grateful to Dorian for cleaning up the crumbling estate that had become an eyesore in their community.

When Aveline and Donnic arrived they immediately went to seek out Dorian, which drew Anders’ and Fenris’ attention. Aveline pulled Dorian aside. “We have some news. I just received reports from Orlais, near the Ferelden border that they have seen an increase in suspicious magical activity, and one word stood out as to who may be responsible. Venatori.”

“I can’t say I’m shocked,” Dorian replied. “I am glad they finally have begun to show themselves. Was there any report on their movements?”

Aveline nodded. “From what the reports show, they were last spotted outside of Jader, and heading roughly south and east into Ferelden.”

Dorian nodded. “Thank you. Well it looks like I may have a trip to plan.”

“You plan to go after them? Alone?” Anders asked.

“I don’t plan to confront them, not yet,” Dorian reassured the mage. “I just want to keep an eye on them and determine what they are up to.”

“What if they catch you?” Fenris queried.

“Then I’ll pretend to join their ranks, naturally,” Dorian tutted. “I’m a disgruntled Altus who ran away from his sanctimonious father. It would be the perfect cover.”

“Just as long as you don’t fall for their rhetoric,” Fenris growled. “Or else I’ll make sure you meet the same fate as Danarius.”

Dorian put up his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry. I already know their rhetoric and it turns my stomach. It won’t turn the rest of me.”

***

Fenris kept staring at his old home, still surprised by its transformation. “Dorian truly is a Magister’s son, needing all this opulence to feel comfortable,” he said to Anders as he sipped his third glass of wine.

The party was just getting into full swing and a quartet of musicians had just begun to play, and couples began to dance. “May I have this dance, Ser Fenris?” Anders asked.

Fenris scowled at the mage, but put down his drink and took Anders’ hand anyway. It turned out that Anders was quite a good dancer. “We had to learn to dance in the Circle. I think it was one of the many activities they used to keep us busy.”

“Danarius had me learn as well,” Fenris admitted. “It was meant to teach me how to be more light and nimble on my feet during combat.”

After they finished their dance, they went back for their drinks just as Dorian reappeared, carrying a large parcel. “Anders, I almost forgot, I have a present for you.”

“What’s this?” Anders asked.

“It’s a combination of a thank you for saving my sorry ass from my father,” Dorian explained. “And an apology for keeping you enslaved. Next to Alexius and Felix, you are the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“Dorian, you know I couldn’t let your father do that to you,” Anders said sincerely. “You were by far the kindest _Master_ I had in Tevinter.”

“Well go on, open it,” Dorian encouraged.

Anders opened the box and when he saw the contents he placed a hand over his mouth in shock. Fenris looked equally surprised. “How did you? Where?”

“Aveline gave me all the specifications,” Dorian explained. “I then had a local tailor create it for you.”

Inside the box was a replica of Anders’ favorite feathered jacket. It included new robes, breeches and boots to match. All in perfect condition and not ragged and falling apart as Anders’ had been. The only difference was that this jacket was made in black instead of a moss green.

Anders turned to hug Dorian. “It looks so good! Why did you choose this color?”

“I thought black suited you better than the moss green that Aveline described,” Dorian shrugged. “I do believe I’m right.”

“It’s wonderful. Thank you,” Anders smiled.

***

**Early 9:41 Dragon.**

A week after the party had Anders and Fenris seeing Dorian off on his hunt for the Venatori. Anders was wearing his new feathered outfit Dorian had gifted him and he felt much more like himself after all this time. He couldn’t stop playing with the feathers until Fenris batted his hands away. “You’re going to make them all fall out.”

Dorian was catching a ship to Jader and would try to pick up the Venatori movement from there. “I’ll try and stay in touch as much as possible. If I require assistance, I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Anders said, giving his friend a hug farewell before Dorian boarded his ship.

As they walked back to Hightown from the docks, Anders looked around wistfully. “I almost miss the days when we were all trailing after Hawke, getting into one misadventure after another.”

“You mean in the days when you had to fight Templars and blood mages at every turn?” Fenris reminded him.

“Alright I don’t miss that,” Anders agreed. “I’m glad the Circle here fell and that the Templars are scattered to the four winds. I just miss our little group. Our weekly games of Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man. All those trips to the Bone Pit. Fighting dragons.”

“I’m sure our days of adventure are not quite over yet, mage,” Fenris said fondly. “Now come, let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be careful what you wish for Anders! ;)


	16. Conclave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aveline receives shocking news from Varric that drives Fenris and Anders apart and sends Anders into a tailspin of despair.

**9:41 Dragon**

As winter in Kirkwall began to turn into spring, Anders became nervous about news from the Conclave. It was meant to take place a couple of weeks prior but news coming out of the Frostbacks was few and far between.

They had heard from Dorian, who had tracked the Venatori down into Ferelden and they were apparently heading towards Redcliffe, where a large contingent of rebel mages had sought refuge, with the blessing of King Alistair. Dorian had expressed some concern as to why the Venatori would have an interest in the rebel mages, and he was shocked to discover that that his former mentor, Magister Alexius, was among them, as was his friend Felix Alexius.

Despite feeling anxious for news out of the Frostbacks, Anders felt at peace with himself for once in his life, enjoying the routine of working in his clinic and spending his evenings with Fenris.

He and Fenris hadn’t yet gone farther with their relationship, as Fenris was still struggling to trust Anders enough to just be friends with the mage. Hawke had really shaken Fenris’ trust and it was going to take time for Anders to earn it from the broody elf.

Merrill had made no progress in regards to what might have happened to Justice so for now Anders just assumed the spirit was just gone, and he mourned the loss of his friend.

***

One afternoon, just as Anders finished healing the broken leg of a miner from an accident in the Bone Pit, Aveline came running in. “Anders! You’ll never believe it!”

Fenris, who had been assisting in the clinic, came over to join Anders and Aveline.

“What’s going on?” Anders asked.

“I just received word from Varric,” Aveline explained. “There was an explosion, at the Conclave. Everyone….well almost everyone…died. Including the Divine Justina herself! Only one man survived and walked right of the heart of the explosion. Garrett Hawke!”

“ _Fasta vass_!” Fenris swore. “Will the depravity of that man know no bounds?”

Anders was equally shocked. He had blamed himself for the Chantry explosion, having left behind his notes and plans for Garrett to find. But this? This was beyond anything he could have conceived.

“There’s more,” Aveline continued. “This explosion was also magical in nature and it seems to have ripped a breach through the veil, causing rifts to appear. Demons are pouring out of the Fade into our world, and apparently, Hawke is the only one who can stop it. He has some sort of mark on his hand that can close the rifts.”

“So, what does that mean?” Anders asked. “If he created the explosion, why would he want to start sealing these rifts now?”

Aveline shook her head. “I don’t know, but when they found him, he had walked out of a rift himself and behind him stood a woman, and since Hawke managed to stabilize the breach, they are now calling him the _Herald of Andraste_!”

“Andraste’s Knickerweasels!” Anders exclaimed. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking?!”

Aveline shook her head. “I’m afraid not, that’s what Varric wrote. I know he likes to spin tall tales, but I’ve been hearing reports from other sources that confirm it.”

“If Andraste truly chose Hawke as her herald, she has a terrible sense of humor,” Fenris grumped under his breath. Anders looked at the elf with a fleeting moment of worry as he could tell that Fenris was quietly seething.

“Oh and one last thing,” Aveline recalled. “It seems that it has been decided to reform the Inquisition, under orders that had been given by Divine Justinia herself. It is being led by a group of four people. First is that Seeker of Truth, Cassandra Pentaghast, who had served as the Left Hand of the Divine. Then some former Chantry sister named Leliana, who was the Right Hand of the Divine and had once been a companion to the Hero of Ferelden. Next is an Antivan diplomat named Josephine Montilyet. Finally, and this was the most shocking, is Cullen Rutherford, who has been named Commander of the Inquisition Forces, a _former Templar_.”

“Cullen? That asshole that said that mages weren’t even human?” Anders growled.

“I couldn’t believe it myself,” Aveline agreed. “I had wondered why he resigned his post as Knight-Commander so abruptly last year, but I guess now I know why. He was probably recruited by that Seeker the same time they took Varric. The timing for that would be about right.”

“What exactly is this Inquisition?” Fenris asked.

“If I recall my history,” Anders replied. “The first Inquisition was formed to help fight the First Blight, before the Grey Wardens were formed. After the Blight ended, they allied with the Chantry, and became their military branch, made up of the Seekers of Truth and the Templar Order.”

“That doesn’t sound very mage-friendly,” Aveline said.

“The irony being that this new Inquisition seems to have named a mage as the Herald of Andraste,” Anders half-chuckled. “This all could get very interesting, very fast.”

“So, what do we do now?” Fenris asked.

“For now, nothing,” Aveline said. “Varric said he’ll try and keep us informed and let us know if he needs our help in any way.”

Aveline then took her leave and Anders sat back onto a cot, stunned.

“What a mess,” Anders sighed. “I knew Hawke was reckless, but this? I didn’t even realize he had the capability to wield magic strong enough to breach the veil. This is serious.”

Fenris continued seething beside him. “Now do you see?” Fenris finally burst. “Now do you understand why I fear the power of mages? I warned you. I warned you all what would happen if mages were freed!”

Anders looked dumbly at Fenris. “You can’t possibly still think that I’m capable of that?! I can’t even fathom the amount of power it would take. More than I have. More than most mages have, actually. Even with blood magic I cannot fathom how it could be done.”

“Then HOW?” Fenris spat. “How could a single mage have caused this?!”

Anders shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps through the use of a magical artifact. That’s the only thing that could possibly…”

“Why do I always put my trust in mages,” Fenris continued to rant. “Only to have them betray me at every turn?!”

“Fenris?” Anders asked hesitatingly.

“You! It’s your fault!” Fenris accused, angry tears now streaming down the elf’s face. “You set Hawke on this path, with all your talk of mage rights and mage freedom. You betrayed me! You betrayed all of us!”

“Fenris!” Anders admonished. “That’s not fair! You know I was being raped and tortured in Tevinter when Hawke blew up the Chantry. Yes, I know it had been an idea I’d had but I never followed through with it. I’m not sure I would have. Even so, I’d have never pursued whatever it is that Hawke has done. Never!”

“Pfaugh!” Fenris exclaimed in disgust before storming out of the clinic.

Anders couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that was rising in him despite his protestations. What if he had been the catalyst that had driven Hawke over the edge? Could it have been the fact he’d been taken and Hawke couldn’t save him?

Now the world might actually end, overrun by demons, if this breach could not be sealed.

Anders excused himself from the clinic, apologizing for their outbursts to the volunteers who kept a quiet distance from him while he brooded.

Anders slowly made his way upstairs into the estate, hoping that Fenris had cooled off. He really needed his friend now, and not another pointless argument.

Anders looked for Fenris in the kitchen and study before heading to the bedroom they had been sharing. When he entered, Anders saw the wardrobe flung open, and all of Fenris’ things were gone. The elf had left. “No, no, no,” Anders cried as he sank to his knees.

A soft knock came at the open bedroom door and Anders looked around to see Orana standing there. “Anders, Fenris told me to tell you he was moving out of the estate,” Orana quietly informed him. “He told me he was taking a room at the Hanged Man.”

Anders wiped his eyes. “Thank you, Orana.”

She turned to go but paused and turned back. “May I ask, what happened?”

“I’m sorry Orana,” Anders sighed. “But I think the world is ending.”

Orana looked confused but left it at that. “I’ll go make you some tea,” she said as she turned and left.

Without Justice, while Dorian is Maker knows where in Ferelden and Fenris gone, Anders felt more alone now than he had in a very long time. His heart hurt and it felt difficult to breathe.

Orana brought him that promised cup of tea and coaxed Anders into a chair by the fireplace, and put a blanket over his lap. “Don’t fret, I’m sure he’ll come back once he’s had time to think about it. I know he cares about you.”

“I don’t know Orana,” Anders sighed. “He and I have argued many times, but not quite so bitterly. I think what Hawke has done may have broken his ability to ever trust mages. Any mage.”

“You’re a good man, Anders,” Orana reassured him. “Master Hawke is a good man too, even if he did lose his way.”

“Thank you, Orana,” Anders said. “I just don’t think that’s going to be enough this time.”

***

Anders kept himself busy in the days and weeks that followed, spending more and more time in the clinic. He had tried going by the Hanged man a couple of times but Fenris always refused to come down and see him.

Anders slowly stopped taking as good care of himself, not wanting to face his nightmares he always had when he slept alone. Instead he worked himself into exhaustion, only to catch some sleep by collapsing onto his old cot in the back room of the clinic, instead of making his way up into the estate.

Orana worried about him and went to fetch Merrill and Aveline when it seemed Anders had completely stopped eating. She had tried to convince Fenris to come as well, but the stubborn elf refused.

The two women came one evening to the clinic, to find Anders slumped in a corner. Dark shadows were under his eyes and he looked horribly gaunt.

“Anders!” Aveline exclaimed to get the mage’s attention. “What in Maker’s name do you think you’re doing to yourself?!”

Anders waved Aveline off with a flick of his wrist. “Go away and leave me be. I have nothing to live for anymore. Even the clinic seems capable of running without my involvement. No one needs me anymore.”

“After all you survived through in Tevinter and one fight with Fenris has you giving up?” Aveline admonished. “Shame on you.”

“When I was in Tevinter I kept my hope alive by looking forward to seeing Fenris again,” Anders shrugged. “No I have no one anymore.”

Aveline sighed and bent down to pick up Anders. She threw him over her shoulder, internally worrying when he went easily and felt so light in her arms. Anders protested weakly but didn’t struggle when she and Merrill marched up to the estate and put him to bed.

“I am posting a guard,” Aveline said. “You are to eat, rest and regain your strength. Varric may still need your help with Hawke so don’t you dare give up on us now. I know your tiff with Fenris has hurt you and believe me I’ll be seeing him next. His brooding like a petulant child is about to come to an end.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Anders grumbled, burying himself beneath the blankets. Aveline nodded in satisfaction and left while Merrill stayed behind.

“I’m going to help Orana until you’re back up on your feet,” Merrill announced. “So, you best get better quick or I’ll just chatter your ears off. I know how much you enjoy that!” Merrill said with a giggle. Anders groaned.

***

A couple of weeks later saw Anders looking healthier again, if not in better spirits. Aveline came by for her usual visit while Anders was eating lunch under the watchful eye of the guard on duty that day. It had been a struggle but after holding him down and forcing him to eat during the first couple of days after Aveline intervened, Anders reluctantly agreed to start eating on his own again.

“I told you that Varric was going to need you!” Aveline declared. “I just received a new letter. He’s asking for you and Fenris to come and help keep an eye on Hawke. There’s been one too many instances of him barging into situations he wasn’t ready for and nearly getting himself killed, and apparently he’s the only hope of closing that breach.”

“Fenris won’t go,” Anders grumbled. “I’m not sure what I could possibly do alone to tame Hawke.”

Just then Anders heard the unmistakable footsteps of a barefooted elf. Ones that were too heavy to be Merrill’s. Fenris appeared behind Aveline. “I will accompany you,” Fenris said quietly. “If only to make sure Hawke remains controlled.”

Anders’ heart lept into his throat. He thought he’d never see Fenris again. The elf scowled at him. “And don’t tempt me to put a collar and leash on you, _mage_. You will do as I say while we journey together.”

Anders sighed. The elf was still not in a reconciliatory mood. “Yes, Fenris.”

“Why must you be like that,” Aveline sighed as she glared at Fenris. “Can’t you see how much he’s hurting? He nearly allowed himself to die after you left.”

Fenris shrugged. “I’ll be ready to go first thing in the morning. We’ll meet at the docks at first light.” Then the elf turned and left.

“Oh dear,” Aveline groaned. “I wish I could send someone else with you both, just to make sure you don’t kill each other.”

“Don’t worry,” Anders chuckled sardonically. “I can manage that all by myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Anders, how I do like to make the poor man suffer (a little). Hehe. So what do you all think about Hawke as Inquisitor? ;)


	17. Haven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris arrive in Haven and get caught up on what Hawke has been up to.

**9:41 Dragon**

Anders and Fenris made the trek to Haven in almost complete silence. Anders let Fenris take the lead and just followed the elf woodenly. He ate when he was told, he slept when he was told.

It took nearly a month to reach Haven from Kirkwall and when they arrived, the first sight they had was of Cullen outside taking the troops through exercises.

The former Templar actually smiled when he recognized them. “Anders! Fenris!” Cullen waved. “It’s good to see you both. I was relieved when Varric told me you were back in Kirkwall Anders, safe and sound.”

“You were?” Anders asked bitterly. “I didn’t realize you cared about those of us who are _less than human_.”

“Oh my,” Cullen blushed and looked embarrassed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t remember that. I am very sorry Anders. I’m sorry I said that. I’m even more sorry that I once even believed it. Please, accept my sincerest apologies.”

Anders looked at the man skeptically. “Perhaps. You were one of the few Templar recruits who was kind to me at Kinloch Hold.”

“Let me get you settled in,” Cullen offered. “Cassandra, can you take over for me?”

Cassandra came over. “Of course, Cullen. Who do we have here?”

“These are two of Hawke’s old companions from Kirkwall,” Cullen introduced. “Anders and Fenris.”

“Oh my,” Cassandra blushed. “It is truly a pleasure to meet both you of you. Anders especially. The story of your disappearance was truly heartbreaking.”

Anders looked at Cassandra in confusion just as Varric walked up. “She’s a big fan of my work,” Varric bragged. “It’s good to see you both made it Blondie, Broody.”

“Where’s Hawke?” Fenris asked, trying to get straight to the point.

“He’s currently in Redcliff,” Cullen replied, as he began to lead Anders and Fenris into Haven, with Varric following along. “He was invited by Grand Enchanter Fiona and he’s hoping to recruit the rebel mages. He needs more power if he has any chance of closing the breach.”

Anders and Fenris looked up towards the ugly green tear in the sky.

“How could he have had enough power to tear open the veil in the first place,” Fenris grumbled. “And then not have enough to close it again?”

“Hawke didn’t cause this broody,” Varric explained. “It’s a long story. Let’s get you both settled in first.”

***

Cullen had arranged for Anders and Fenris to share a cabin. Fenris protested, but unless Fenris wanted to bunk with Varric in his tent instead, there wasn’t any other place for him. The elf relented when he saw that there were two separate beds made up in the cabin.

Once they had settled in and gotten some rest from their long journey, they made their way over to the tavern to meet with Varric.

Varric bought them all a round of drinks and they sat at a corner table so Varric could fill them in on everything.

“So, you were saying that Hawke didn’t cause the breach?” Fenris prompted.

“Same old Broody, always straight to the point,” Varric laughed. “Well, at first we did think Hawke caused it. Since he blew up the Chantry and then walked out of the Conclave explosion without a scratch on him, it was easy to come to that conclusion.”

“And now?” Fenris pressed.

“Well, Hawke doesn’t remember a damned thing from the Conclave,” Varric explained. “But apparently when he went to stabilize the breach with Cassandra, Leliana, Cullen and Solas, they actually saw and heard part of what happened. It was some sort of echo from the veil or something, according to Solas. But Cassandra, Leliana and Cullen all saw it.”

 Varric paused to take a long pull from his ale before continuing. “The echo or vision or whatever it was, was of the Divine Justinia calling out for help, and some voice talking about preparing her for a sacrifice. The final bit was Hawke trying to come to the Divine’s aid just before the explosion went off.”

“So, Hawke was trying to help the Divine?” Anders asked. “That’s a new twist.”

“Yeah,” Varric agreed. “We still don’t know the whole story, but Hawke’s been pretty shaken up about the whole thing.”

Fenris took a long drink from his wine before turning to Anders. “I believe I owe you an apology, mage. When I thought Hawke had wrought this, I was very angry. I blamed you and I… I shouldn’t have.”

Anders felt a lump in his throat and took a deep breath. “Thank you Fenris. Does this mean you might be willing to try being friends again? I’ve really missed you.”

“We will speak of…things…in private. Later,” Fenris promised.

Anders felt a weight lift from his shoulders. A sliver of hope rose in his chest and he drank his ale with more enthusiasm.

Varric filled them in on everything else that had been going on, up through Hawke’s visit to Val Royeaux and the mysterious invitation from Grand Enchanter Fiona.

“Hawke has also been gathering together a new band of companions to follow him around,” Varric chuckled. “That would include me from time-to-time. He’s also got a Qunari Ben-Hassrath agent, an elven apostate, that would Solas who I mentioned earlier, a rogue elf, and the First Enchanter from the Circle in Val Royeaux.”

“Hawke has always had a knack for bringing together a motley crew,” Anders joked, as his spirits were finally improving.

“That he did,” Varric agreed. “So, as to why I’ve asked you here. When he gets back, I’d like either one of you to always go out with him as he travels to close the rifts in the veil that have been cropping up all over the place.”

“If he already has companions that go with him,” Fenris asked. “Why do you need us?”

“Well, he doesn’t know his new companions that well yet,” Varric explained. “Outside of myself. If I’m with him, he’ll listen to me before he goes barreling into trouble. But he’s not good at listening to anyone else yet. I know he’ll listen to either of you. We need him alive.”

“Alright,” Anders replied. “We’ll do our best to keep our Champion Herald out of trouble.”

“Can you explain to us about how he closes these rifts?” Fenris asked.

“It’s the damndest thing,” Varric shrugged. “He’s got this glowing mark on his hand, and if he gets close to a rift, he can discharge energy from it and it closes the rifts. Of course, the rest of us always have to fight off all the demons pouring out of the rift until he can close it. Sometimes it takes two or three bursts to get it completely closed.”

“Fascinating,” Anders said. “So, this breach and these rifts are all tears in the veil, and this isn’t even an area where the veil is supposed to be thin, like in the Blackmarsh.”

“You’ve been to the Blackmarsh?” Varric asked. “I’ve heard it’s one of the creepiest places in all Ferelden.”

“That was when I was still with the Grey Wardens,” Anders explained. “Warden-Commander Mahariel led the expedition there to find a missing Warden. Unfortunately, all we found was his corpse before our entire party was pulled into the Fade. That’s where we met Justice. When we were blasted out of the Fade he got caught up in the spell and ended up in the corpse of that Warden we’d been looking for. That was quite a shock to all of us.”

“Speaking of Justice,” Varric interjected. “Have you had any luck resurrecting him?”

Anders shook his head. “No, and Merrill couldn’t figure it out either.”

“Maybe you should go talk to Solas,” Varric suggested. “He seems to know a lot about spirits, far more than Merrill.”

“Alright, I’ll think about it,” Anders agreed. “Thanks Varric.”

***

Later, when Anders and Fenris returned to their cabin, Anders sat on his bed and watched Fenris remove the boots he had been persuaded to purchase before they hiked into the Frostbacks.

“How are your feet holding up?” Anders asked as he heard Fenris hiss in pain. “You aren’t used to wearing those yet, are you?”

Fenris huffed. “No, I’m not.”

“May I?” Anders offered. “Please, let me help?”

Fenris took a deep breath and finally nodded. “Alright.”

Anders came over and sat on Fenris’ bed and had the elf place his feet into his lap. Then Anders slowly began to massage each foot, using the smallest amount of healing magic to heal the blisters and soothe the ache.

Anders relished touching Fenris again, even just this much. “I really missed you, you know,” he said quietly.

“So, they told me,” Fenris said. “Why were you trying to starve yourself? It couldn’t have just been because I left, could it?”

“That was a big part of it,” Anders replied. “I lost my family. I lost Karl. I lost my place among the Grey Wardens. I lost Hawke. I lost Justice. I lost Dorian. Then finally I lost you as well. I just felt so alone and that I just had nothing to live for anymore.”

Fenris bent forward and reached out then, stroking Anders’ face. “I am sorry,” Fenris apologized again. “I won’t leave you alone again.”

“Thank you,” Anders sighed, leaning into the elf’s touch.

***

A week later, Hawke finally returned from Redcliffe, with a new companion in tow.

“Dorian!” Anders cried and ran to the Altus, giving the man a huge hug. They both looked at each other and nearly simultaneously asked. “What are you doing here?!”

Clearing his throat, Hawke also pointedly asked. “Yes, what are you doing here? Last I heard, Varric told me you were back in Kirkwall and had reopened your clinic?”

“It’s a long story,” Fenris chimed in as he appeared from behind Cullen.

“Fenris! My favorite broody elf,” Hawke beamed. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

Fenris harrumphed. “No, it does not. But someone needs to keep an eye on you. Every time I turn my back, buildings are exploding with you right in the middle of it all.”

“I didn’t do it this time! I swear!” Hawke put up his hands in mock defensiveness.

“Yes, I heard,” Fenris huffed. “It still doesn’t mean you can be trusted.”

“So, have you both come to join this little Inquisition of ours?” Hawke asked.

Anders nodded. “Yes, we’re here to help as much as possible.”

“Splendid!” Hawke beamed. “First I need to do a debriefing with my advisors, and then we can all go to the tavern and catch up!”

***

Fenris was being grumpy. Again. “Of course, you would recruit the mages over the Templars, Hawke. How predictable.”

“Oh, come now, Fenris,” Hawke pouted. “You know very well I can’t trust the Templars. No offense, Cullen.”

Cullen sighed. “None taken, although I still wish you’d reconsider your stance against conscripting the mages.”

Hawke glared at Cullen. “You know very well why I won’t do that to them.”

“Yes, _Herald_ ,” Cullen sighed.

The conversation turned to other matters then and Anders found Hawke and Dorian’s story regarding traveling into the future and confronting Dorian’s former mentor fascinating. “I remember you telling me about your theories regarding traveling through time. In fact, I distinctly remember arguing with you against it.”

“You did indeed,” Dorian recalled. “Alexius and I were never able to stabilize the magic so I set it aside to pursue other endeavors, much in part because of your arguments against such magic. It seems you were quite right in regards to how dangerous it could be.”

“So, you two knew each other in Tevinter?” Hawke asked, not having been completely filled in on Anders’ time as a slave.

“His father bought me to be his bed slave,” Anders admitted. “It took me nearly six months to convince him to sleep with me too!”

Dorian laughed. “I remember. I had no interest in using a slave, but you were quite persistent!”

“It’s your fault for flaunting that amazing body of yours in front of me all the time,” Anders teased.

Fenris growled at their good-natured joking. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Fenris,” Anders apologized. “I know you never had any good experiences in Tevinter. You also know I went through some horrific experiences. My time with Dorian was the one bright spot throughout all of it.”

“Hmmph, so long as he keeps his hands off you now,” Fenris warned.

“Why? Are you laying claim to me?” Anders teased.

Fenris glared at him. “Perhaps.”

***

After catching up with Hawke, Anders and Fenris returned to their cabin. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” Fenris asks as he prepared for bed.

“That you _perhaps_ want to claim me?” Anders clarified.

Fenris sighed. “I’m still trying to learn to trust you _again_ ,” Fenris replied. “I know it wasn’t your fault and I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you, but I’ve just been hurt so many times. Trust doesn’t come easy for me. Please try and be patient?”

“If I know there’s some hope for us,” Anders said. “Then yes, I’ll be patient. I’ll wait for you for the rest of my life if I know there’s a chance.”

“Know that I do care for you,” Fenris admitted. “Far more than I ever thought I could. Which is probably why I reacted as strongly as I did to the news, when we thought Hawke had destroyed the Conclave.”

Anders’ felt his heart clench and Fenris’ words. “I’m so happy to hear you say that. I promise I won’t push. Just know I’ll be here for you. No matter what.”

Fenris grunted in acknowledgement as he slipped into bed. “Alright, let’s get some sleep, _mage_.” The normal epithet was said with a hint of fondness for the first time in a long time and it made Anders’ heart soar.

As Anders laid in his bed, his mind began to race, processing everything that’s been happening over the past few weeks.

Then Anders noticed the quiet rhythm of Fenris’ breathing coming from the other bed in the cabin. When Anders focused on that, it finally calmed his racing mind and he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, at least Fenris is able to admit when he's wrong and apologize ... :)


	18. Wardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris accompany Hawke while he tries to figure out why the Grey Wardens went missing.

**9:41 Dragon.**

They were _once again_ trudging through the Hinterlands, on yet another quest. This time it was to seek out a Grey Warden they had heard of. Apparently, the order seemed to have all but disappeared from Ferelden and Orlais and even Vigil’s Keep in Amaranthine had been abandoned.

That concerned Anders, who worried for his old friends, especially Nathanial, Oghren and Sigrund.

Hawke led the way while Anders, Varric, and Fenris followed along. “Hey cheer up Blondie,” Varric said, trying to lighten his dour mood. “Maybe this Grey Warden is one of your old friends you’re worried about?”

“Perhaps,” Anders shrugged. “It wouldn’t be unlike Nathanial to strike out on his own like this.”

As they rounded the lake and headed towards the cabin where the supposed Grey Warden was residing, Anders caught a flash of broad shoulders and black hair and his breath hitched. _Could it be?_

But as they drew closer, Anders realized something was out of place. Grey Wardens could feel each other’s presence through their shared taint and Anders couldn’t feel anything from this person. As he turned around, Anders quickly realized not only was he not Nathanial but he was clearly an imposter.

Hawke then approached the man as he was in the middle of _training_ three young men. “Warden Blackwall?”

“How do you know my name?” the man asked accusingly. Just then they found themselves under attack by yet another group of bandits that seemed to thrive in this part of Thedas.

Once the bandits had been routed and the _conscripts_ sent back to their families, Hawke approached Blackwall again.

“You’re no farmer, how do you know my name?” Blackwall asked again. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Hawke. Some used to call me the Champion of Kirkwall and now people taken to calling me the Herald of Andraste,” Hawke boasted. “I’m here investigating the disappearance of the Grey Wardens.”

“I didn’t know they’d disappeared,” Blackwall responded. “but we do that, right? No more Blight, job done, Wardens are the first thing forgotten.”

Anders stepped forward then. “No. That’s not what _we_ do,” Anders said. “And you’re no Grey Warden.”

Blackwall flashed him a look that was a mix of anger and fear. “And who are you to accuse me of falsehoods?!”

“My name is Anders,” the mage introduced himself. “I _am_ a Grey Warden and I was stationed at Vigil’s Keep. I may have left the order, but for as long as I still live I will always be a Grey Warden.”

“Well, how could you possibly know if I was one or not?” Blackwall accused. “I was recruited in Orlais and I’ve never been to this Vigil’s Keep.”

“I know because you’ve never undertaken the Joining. You don’t carry the taint that every Grey Warden must carry,” Anders explained. “Hawke, don’t waste your time on him. He wouldn’t know what happened to the Wardens. He clearly doesn’t know the first thing about us.”

Blackwall sighed. “Alright, you found me out. I was conscripted and I was being taken to my Joining when my recruiter was attacked and killed. I barely made it out alive myself.”

“I was told that Warden Blackwall was a well-respected Grey Warden,” Hawke said. “Who are you really?”

“My name is Thom Rainier,” the false Warden said. “Warden Blackwall was the one to recruit me. I…I took his name after he was killed.”

“I’m guessing there is far more to that story,” Varric supplied. “But I bet you’re not ready to talk about it yet, are you?”

Thom shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

Hawke paced back and forth, considering something. “Thom, would you like to join our Inquisition? I saw how you handled yourself with those conscripts and we can use all the help we can get training our troops.”

Thom nodded. “Alright, but I’d prefer if I kept the Blackwall name, for now.”

“Fair enough,” Hawke said. “Come on then.”

Anders was about to protest when Varric placed a hand on his elbow. “Let him be Blondie. Hawke’s right, we do need the help and the man seems capable enough.”

Anders sighed. “Alright. But I am not calling him Warden Blackwall.”

“Well it’s not like anyone calls you Warden Anders,” Varric reminded him.

***

They escorted Blackwall back to Haven and Hawke met with his advisors. He asked Anders to join in the conversation.

“Besides Anders, I’ve only ever met one other Grey Warden,” Hawke began.

“No, you’ve met two,” Anders corrected.

“What do you mean?” Hawke asked. “Stroud is the only one I can recall.”

“You met his Majesty, King Alistair of Ferelden,” Anders clarified. “Don’t you remember he was one of the Grey Wardens that ended the Fifth Blight?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Hawke recalled. “He was one of the companions of the Hero of Ferelden. Leliana, you knew him then, correct?”

“Indeed, I did,” Leliana confirmed as a small smile crossed her lips. “Alistair was the senior Grey Warden but he lacked any leadership abilities at the time, which is why Warden Mahariel took charge.”

“Poor Alistair,” Leliana continued. “He was so innocent and naïve when we first met. His experiences during the Fifth Blight helped harden him and that made him into the beloved leader he is today.”

“Alright, His Majesty aside,” Hawke interjected. “Warden Stroud was the only Warden I’d ever spoken to that was actually still an active Grey Warden.”

“Do you know how to find him?” Cullen asked.

“I think I might,” Hawke nodded. “Before the Conclave I came across word of him and I was thinking of seeking him out. Last I heard he was hiding out somewhere in Crestwood.”

“Oh, how fortuitous!” Josephine chimed in. “I have recently been getting reports of troubles in Crestwood and I was going to add it to your agenda to check out.”

“Well that’s settled then,” Hawke said. “Let’s take a day to rest and resupply and then head to Crestwood.”

***

During their one day of respite, Anders and Fenris spent some time with Dorian, who had been tasked with studying the magical time amulet more closely to assess if there was any further threat that it might pose.

“I’m finding it remarkable,” Dorian said as he sipped on a glass of wine. “It goes far beyond where Alexius and I had taken our research but it’s nowhere near as stable as I think he would have liked it to be, which explains all the time anomalies we were seeing.”

“Has the Inquisition treated you well?” Anders asked.

“Oh more or less,” Dorian shrugged. “I am a bit of a pariah, being an _evil Tevinter Magister_ and all that. But Hawke’s been kind, as has most of his inner-circle.”

Anders spied a slight blush from Dorian when he mentioned Hawke. “You _like_ Hawke, don’t you?”

“Yes, well,” Dorian admitted. “The man does have considerable charm. And an extremely lovely derriere.”

Anders laughed and Fenris made a sound of disgust, followed by a small smirk.

“Just be careful,” Anders warned. “Hawke has left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.”

“Duly noted,” Dorian replied. “So, did you ever make any progress regarding your spirit? Justice, was it?”

Anders shook his head with a frown. “No. Merrill couldn’t find anything about it in the lore, and the few magical probes she did were inconclusive.”

“Have you mentioned it to Solas?” Dorian asked.

“Not yet, but Varric had also suggested it.” Anders replied.

“Well, it seems he’s a bit of an expert on the fade and spirits,” Dorian explained. “Perhaps he might have an idea?”

“Should I go ask him now?” Anders pondered. “I don’t know why I keep putting it off.”

“Are you really so eager to be reunited with Justice?” Fenris asked with a warning tone.

Anders sighed. “He was my friend, even before we were joined. I’m just worried about him and I just need to know what might have happened to him, that’s all.”

“Then I will go with you,” Fenris said as he stood.

“Well if you’re both going, I may as well join in as well,” Dorian said in a tone of mock exasperation. Then he drank the rest of his wine in a single gulp.

They found Solas in his usual spot outside of his hut. “Solas!” Anders greeted. “I know we haven’t spoken much but I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?”

“Questions regarding what?” Solas replied, already sounding bored.

“About Fade spirits, actually,” Anders replied. “I’m not sure if you knew but I was once, or maybe I still am, possessed by a spirit of Justice.”

Solas demeanor immediately perked up at this information. “No, I was not aware.”

They all relocated inside and sat down before Anders related the tale to Solas of how he had met Justice, how the spirit was forcibly thrown from the Fade along with the Grey Wardens, only to end up inhabiting a rotting corpse of a dead Grey Warden, and how Anders accepted a joining with Justice as the corpse began to fall apart.

Solas paused Anders there. “So when you joined, you were not changed?”

“Well yes and no,” Anders replied. “Physically I was not changed, but Justice did have a significant influence on my behavior after that. Because of him I became less selfish, not only thinking of myself. Instead I learned to reach out and help others. That’s a trait I still carry with me now.”

“Remarkable,” Solas replied. “I haven’t seen such a thing…in a very long time. You must be a powerful mage in order to not let a spirit like that completely consume you.”

Anders shrugged. “I’m primarily a spirit healer, I always thought that must be the reason. I always commune with spirits in order to heal.”

“Yes, I’m sure that must be part of it,” Solas agreed. “Please continue.”

Anders then related how he had been captured and sold into slavery, having had his magic and Justice repressed for over four years.

“When Dorian finally helped me take the suppression collar off, my magic came back in a rush,” Anders explained. “But it’s been over a year and still no sign of Justice reemerging. I’m just very worried about my friend.”

“I find it encouraging that you would refer to a spirit as such,” Solas smiled. “Would you allow me to probe you with my magic?”

Anders nodded.

Solas stood and walked behind Anders. Fenris glared at the apostate elf, wary of any foul magic he might perform.

Solas sent tendrils of magic into Anders slowly probing and searching. After many minutes, he finally sighed and pulled his magic back.

“I can find no trace of Justice,” Solas responded. “My best guess is he found a way back to the Fade. If he had perished while still joined with you, I would expect at least some residual trace, but I find none, at all.”

“Alright, thank you,” Anders replied. “I’ll have to take solace in that I suppose, and hope that he made it back to the Fade safely.”

They took their leave of Solas and Dorian returned to his work. Anders and Fenris went and wandered around Haven, Anders stopping to gather elfroot along the way.

“I know you’re probably happy about this,” Anders finally said.

“I will not deny that I had no love for your…spirit,” Fenris admitted. “However, I am still sorry that you lost your friend.”

Anders smiled at the elf. “Thank you.”

***

Crestwood was a cold, wet, miserable place. Fenris was thanking the Maker that he’d started wearing boots as they trudged through the muck.

There was a rift that had formed below the lake of Crestwood and there was no way to access it without draining the lake.

It took some Hawke and all of his charm to convince the mayor to give Hawke access to Caer Bronach in order to drain the lake and access the underground tunnels where the rift was.

On the way towards Caer Bronach, they passed by the cave entrance that was Stroud’s last known location, according to the intelligence from Leliana and Josephine. “Come on, let’s see if he’s home. That rift can wait another hour.”

They followed Hawke into the cave and followed the tunnel until it ended at a door. Hawke knocked before opening, only to be greeted by the point of a sword.

“Stroud? It’s me, Hawke!” Hawke declared, holding up his hands.

Stroud laughed and lowered his blade. “Hawke! How did you find me? Were you followed?”

“That’s a long story,” Hawke laughed. “We came to see if you knew where the hell the other Grey Wardens disappeared to.”

Stroud sighed. “That is also a long story.”

Hawke called out. “Everyone get comfortable, we might be here awhile.”

Anders frowned. He couldn’t _feel_ Stroud any more than he could _feel_ Blackwall. In this case Anders remembered the Grey Warden and had felt him back in Kirkwall so he was perplexed but decided to keep quiet for now.

Instead Anders paid close attention to Stroud’s story, how all the Grey Wardens began go hear a _false Calling_ , and then how Warden Commander Clarel from the Orlais branch of the Wardens had called together the all the Grey Wardens she could reach across Thedas.

“She’s working with a Magister from Tevinter,” Stroud explained. “He has her convinced she needs a demon army to wipe out all the Darkspawn before it’s too late.”

“How do you know this Calling is false?” Fenris asked.

“Because every Warden alive is hearing it,” Stroud explained. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

Fenris growled and looked at Anders who now wore a very guilty expression. “So you’ve been hearing this false Calling and you haven’t told me?”

Anders frowned. “I haven’t been hearing it. In fact, I can’t even feel Stroud. Normally I’d know if I were in proximity to another Grey Warden but I don’t feel a thing.”

Stroud looked at him more closely. “I remember you from Kirkwall. I know I felt your presence then, but I feel nothing from you now either. How is that possible?”

Anders shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. I left the order several years ago. I was recruited by, and served at Vigil’s Keep near Amaranthine, under Warden-Commander Mahariel.”

“The Hero of Ferelden?” Stroud sounded impressed. “I met him once. Good man. Last I heard he was still wandering Thedas searching for a cure for the Calling, along with his Antivan paramour.”

Anders smiled, remembering the love note Mahariel had received from his lover. The Wardens had teased him about it for days.

“I’m glad to hear they were reunited,” Anders said. “Getting back to the matter at hand, I know I still carried the Grey Warden taint when I met you, and when I accompanied Hawke and Varric on an expedition down into the Deep Roads. I wonder if something happened while I was enslaved in Tevinter?”

“That mystery will have to wait for another time,” Hawke said, turning his attention to Stroud. “Why are you hiding out here?”

“I don’t think Warden-Commander Clarel is thinking clearly,” Stroud said. “I refused to go along with this ritual she was planning with that slimy Tevinter magister. She and I disagreed vehemently and she was going to force me to complete the ritual, so I ran. She still has Grey Wardens hunting me. For now I plan to lay low until I can figure out more of what’s going on.”

Hawke then filled Stroud in about everything that had happened to him since they last met.

“If you need the Inquisition’s help,” Hawke concluded. “Just let me know. We’re currently operating out of Haven near the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I’m hoping to get that damned breach closed with the help of the rebel mages I recruited.”

“Alright, I’ll keep my eyes and ears open,” Stroud said. “I recently heard some intelligence that makes me believe they have something planned in the Western Approach and I was planning on heading there.”

Hawke nodded. “I believe we’ve been planning to set up a camp in the Western Approach. I’ll ask our troops to expedite that mission and lend you aid in case you require it.”

“Thank you,” Stroud said gratefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Justice, now his Grey Warden spidey senses...what is going on with our Anders? ;)


	19. Snowbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders gets lost in a blizzard after Haven is attacked.

**9:41 Dragon**

They were finally ready to try and close the breach. Solas had been working with the rebel mages to make sure they all knew exactly how to focus their magic in a way that would channel through the mark on Hawke’s hand and amplify its power.

Even Anders, Dorian and Vivienne would add their magic along to the collective whole. They had all been practicing together for weeks to make sure they wouldn’t overwhelm Hawke.

As they all marched up to the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes from Haven, Fenris stayed close to Anders’ side. “Do not overtax yourself,” the elf warned.

Anders smiled. “It’s nice to know you’re concerned, but the real risk is to Hawke. This could very well kill him and he knows it.”

Fenris harrumphed. “I’m still not entirely convinced that this isn’t in some way his fault.”

“I heard that!” Hawke shouted from the head of the procession and many of the mages around them giggled as Fenris blushed with embarrassment.

“I wish he wouldn’t do that,” Fenris said in a more hushed tone.

***

Once they were all in position, with Hawke standing almost directly beneath the breach, surrounded by all the mages, Solas gave the order to get ready.

Hawke held up his hand and sent the energy of the mark into the breach, just as Solas dropped the signal for all mages to begin focusing their magic on Hawke.

The mark flared brighter than it ever had before and the pulse of energy from it fed into the breach in a powerful rush of magic that burst forth from Hawke, throwing the apostate mage back and knocking everyone to the ground.

Anders blinked and looked up to see the breach had indeed been closed.

Fenris ran to Anders’ side first, making sure the mage was alright before they both turned their attention to Hawke. Hawke had been dazed but he seemed to be alright as he slowly staggered to his feet with Solas’ and Dorian’s assistance.

Solas assessed the situation and looked pleased. “The breach has been sealed!” he declared and a great cheer came forth from all gathered.

The atmosphere of the procession on the way down the mountain was decidedly more jubilant than it had been going up. They finally felt like there was hope that this entire nightmare might actually come to an end.

The news of the mages helping the Herald to save Thedas would surely atone for some of their recent transgressions.

***

Haven had erupted in wine and song well before Hawke and the mages had managed to get back down from the mountain. Fenris was one of the few who did not join in on the celebration. “Oh, stop being so dour,” Hawke admonished. “We sealed the breach and if we’re lucky that will seal all the rifts that have been popping up everywhere. We’ll just need to make a sweep and clear out the remaining demons and then this entire mess should be behind us!”

“How can you be so sure?” Fenris queried. “What about this Elder One who had practically destroyed Thedas in that future you saw?”

“Well, since we just closed the breach,” Hawke said with confidence. “That future is never going to happen.”

“At least come and share a drink with everyone,” Hawke prodded. “You’ll join us, won’t you Anders?”

“You know I’m not one to say no to a bit of merriment,” Anders joked. “But Fenris is right. This was almost too easy.”

“Wait, you’re actually taking Fenris’ side?” Hawke said in mock shock. “Since when have you two ever agreed on anything?”

Anders and Fenris looked at each other and shrugged. “Well forget both of you,” Hawke said as he began to walk towards the celebration. “I’m going to have some well-deserved fun!”

Just then a cry rang out and the alarm bells sounded throughout Haven. Anders turned towards the ridge outside of Haven’s walls and saw an army amassing along its edge. “Oh shit, just when I was half-hoping Hawke was right for once.”

***

Over the next hour everything was a blur as Anders and Fenris did their best to help evacuate as many of Haven’s stunned residents to the Chantry as they could, while fighting off the terrifying looking Templars that were sprouting red lyrium crystals from their bodies and armor.

“Templars weren’t already terrifying enough?” Anders grumbled as he sent lightning bolts through another behemoth that threatened to rend Fenris in two.

When they realized that the Elder One was actually Corypheus, Anders nearly fell down in shock. “We killed him! He was dead! I was sure of it!”

“Not dead enough, it seems,” Fenris shouted over his shoulder as he fought yet another Red Templar.

Before they knew it, they were being recruited to help the evacuees in the Chantry to a hidden pass through the mountains that Grand Chancellor Roderick was familiar with.

Anders tried arguing with Cullen. “We can’t just abandon Hawke! We need him!”

“It’s his choice,” Cullen countered. “He promised he will not needlessly sacrifice himself. Right now, we need everyone we can to help escort those evacuees!”

Anders and Fenris were near the rear of the procession of evacuees, just behind the wagons that had been hastily packed with everything they could grab. Anders used his magic to light his staff so people knew where the procession ended.

They were barely half-way up the mountain when the blizzard struck.

The wind began to whip around them as the snow fell in thick sheets. Anders leaned on his staff and struggled to keep up with Fenris and the wagons. He kept on trudging forward, keeping the ruts that the wagons left in the snow in view.

On and on they marched through the snow until Anders couldn’t feel his feet or even his legs anymore. He knew he had to keep moving or freeze to death. He was now marching with half closed eyes, trying to both shield them from the wind and because he was so weary.

Anders didn’t even realize at first when he lost the trail of the wagons. When it dawned on him that all he could see was freshly fallen snow before him, he finally looked up and realized he was all alone for as far as he could see, which wasn’t particularly far in this blizzard.

For a moment, Anders stood there in shock. Had he fallen so far behind that the snow was filling in the wagon trails or had he veered off-course in his weary state. Anders couldn’t know for sure. All he knew was that he had to keep going until he found shelter. He wouldn’t last long alone out here.

Using his magic to try and find his way through the wall of snow, Anders eventually found the entrance to a small cave that was already half buried. Anders used more magic to melt away the snow from the entrance and then crawled inside.

Anders huddled into the back of the small cave and erected a barrier at the small cave entrance to keep out the howling wind, while using small bursts of magic to warm up the cave. He decided he would wait for the storm to dissipate and for the sun to rise before trying to find his way through the mountains again.

***

Anders must have drifted off in the night, he realized as he started awake. He immediately ran his small heat spell to warm up the cave again. During the night, the cave entrance had been completely covered by snow but by the faint light filtering in, he surmised that it must now be daylight outside.

Anders took down the barrier and used his magic to melt enough snow to drink and then began to clear away the entrance to the cave.

Once Anders had cleared away enough snow so that he could see the sky, he saw that it was a bright, sunny day but there must be at least seven or eight feet of snow that had fallen overnight. There was no way for him to get through it without exhausting his mana quickly and he had no resources at his disposal to create snow shoes or a sled or something else that could carry him on top of the snow.

Anders crawled back into his cave and erected the barrier again and reheated the small space. He sat for a long time contemplating his fate. His only hope was that the Inquisition would send out scouts to look for stragglers. He wouldn’t be spotted easily from inside this cave so he wove a spell that would shoot out a bright electrical burst on a regular basis. The spell itself would only last about two hours but it would suffice.

He had no idea if the Inquisition would waste resources to look for him or anyone else who may have gotten lost, but he wasn’t about to give up yet.

***

A few days passed and there didn’t seem to be any sign of a rescue party. By now Anders felt a gnawing hunger and all he could fill his belly with was melted snow. At least he wouldn’t dehydrate anytime soon.

Anders felt trapped, much like the times he’d spent in solitary confinement. At least this time he had fresh air and he could see the sky, but he was just as restricted. He tried to conserve his energy but he often found himself restless and wished he could at least pace, but the cave was far too small to even allow him to stand.

With only his own thoughts to occupy his time, Anders found himself once again thinking of Fenris. Was the elf worried for him or glad to finally be rid of him? Anders had kept hoping that Fenris might one day return his affections but he wasn’t so sure that would ever happen.

After nearly a week, Anders was pretty sure he was going to die in that cave but he continued to send out his signal flares in the hopes of someone eventually finding him. He really didn’t want to die alone in a cave in the middle of the Frostback Mountains.

***

One morning after Anders reset the signal spell, he slumped back down and tried hard not to cry in frustration and hunger. Not less than an hour later he heard the voice of someone shouting outside.

Anders ducked his head out of the cave and  crawled up the side of the snow bank outside of his cave saw what looked like a ranger of some sort, shouting to get his attention. Anders sent another electrical flare towards the man.

The man turned around, startled and then saw Anders waving frantically at him.

As the man approached, Anders felt a measure of relief. “What in Thedas are you doing out here?” the man asked.

“I was fleeing Haven when the blizzard hit,” Anders explained. “I got lost and found this cave to take shelter for the night and I’ve been snowed in since. I’ve been here over a week now.”

“Maker,” the man said. “Haven was buried under an avalanche. All hands lost.”

Anders shook his head. “No. Most of us made it out alive. I was following the caravan out of Haven with the other evacuees when I became separated.”

“You mean there are survivors?” the man asked.

“I hope so,” Anders nodded. “I’d hate to think they all died up here in the mountains after escaping Haven.”

“Do you have any way to help get me out of here?” Anders asked, noting the snow shoes the man wore.

“I don’t have another set of these,” the man apologized. “But I do have a sled that I left hidden a half-mile back. I can take you on that out of the worst of the snow.”

“I would appreciate that so much!” Anders said thankfully.

***

It took two days to get out of the deepest snow and thankfully they came out close to the Imperial Highway. Once back on more solid ground, the  man pointed Anders in two directions. “From here you can either head south to Redcliffe, or North to Jader. If you head North, you’ll pass by the entrance to Orzammar but I doubt they’d let you in.

“Actually, I think I might be able to get into Orzammar,” Anders said hopefully. “They’ve always made Grey Wardens welcome.”

“You’re a Grey Warden?” the man asked skeptically.

Anders nodded. “Yes, at least I was once. I did leave the Order, but technically the Order never really leaves us. Once joined, we are always a Grey Warden.” At least Anders hoped that was true, despite no longer having his Warden abilities anymore.

“Hmmph, if you say so,” the man shrugged. “Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness,” Anders said gratefully.

“Just don’t get trapped up in the Frostbacks again and that’ll be repayment enough,” the man laughed as he headed back into the mountains.

***

It took Anders a week to reach Orzammar, where he was welcomed as a Grey Warden. One thing that Warden-Commander Mahariel had made sure each of his recruits knew, was the secret phrase that allowed every Grey Warden safe passage through Orzammar into the Deep Roads.

While the dwarves had believed that he was a Grey Warden, they were surprised that he wasn’t there to go straight to the Deep Roads and start killing Darkspawn like his past brethren had.

Instead, Anders settled in at Tapsters Tavern, while taking periodic trips up to the surface to see if any news of the Inquisition had reached here yet.

“Are you sure you’re not just a coward?” Corra asked, serving Anders another ale.

“No, it’s just not my time yet,” Anders sighed in exasperation. “I am just staying here until I hear word from the Inquisition.”

“Not sure how you’d be getting news if you spend all your time down here drinking ale,” Corra groused.

“That’s why each week I go up to the surface and ask for news from the vendors who trade outside of Orzammar’s gates,” Anders explained.

“Hey can you do me a favor? The next time you go up there,” Corra asked. “Can you do some trading for me?”

Anders agreed and the next day he made his way back up to the surface and made some trades for goods Corra needed, while also inquiring about news from the Inquisition.

After completing the needed trades, Anders approached a newcomer to the marketplace.

“Excuse me,” Anders asked. “I was wondering if you may have had any news regarding the Inquisition that had been headquartered at Haven several weeks ago?”

“Yes, I have,” the man acknowledged. “They’ve set themselves up in some forgotten fortress in the middle of the Frostbacks. Skyhold they call it. Word has been spreading like wildfire since they found the place and people from all over are heading there to join up.”

Anders’ heart lept with joy. “Thank you! Do you happen to know where Skyhold is?”

“Not precisely, but there’s an Inquisition camp set up in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe. I’m sure someone there can guide you the rest of the way.”

“Of course!” Anders felt stupid. “I’d forgotten about our camp at the Crossroads. Thank you!”

Anders hurried back to Corra to deliver the goods she had requested before preparing to head south. “They made it! They didn’t all die in the mountains!” Anders announced excitedly. Corra just shook her head at the strange _Warden_ that had been making his home in her in.

The next morning found Anders happily making his way south and looking forward to being reunited with his friends once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders really isn't suited to the outdoorsy life, poor mage.


	20. Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders makes it to Skyhold and is reunited with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fan art below. Not a commission but this was too perfect not to include here. The art is done by http://art-by-g.tumblr.com/ :)

**Late 9:41 Dragon.**

It took Anders another few weeks to reach Skyhold from Orzammar. He didn’t know a direct route to get there so he first headed to the Hinterlands and found the Inquisition camps still intact.

Then he had to wait a few days to accompany a group of new recruits who were being escorted from the Crossroads up to Skyhold. Anders had no interest in risking himself to try and get to Skyhold alone, so he waited.

The recruits were a motly crew of farmers, apostates and former Templars who all soon became fast friends. Once they realized who Anders was, they riddled him with questions about Hawke, Varric, Corypheus and the Inquisition.

After a week of marching, they crested a rise and Skyhold finally came into view. The fortress was magnificent, even if it had some portions that were obviously crumbling.

Anders hoped that everyone he knew had made it to Skyhold safely and he was eager to be reunited with this friends.

***

As they entered Skyhold, Cullen was there trying to sort out the chaos with the new recruits when his eyes fell upon Anders. Cullen’s eyes narrowed at him for a moment, not immediately recognizing him. Anders hadn’t thought to shave since before the blizzard and he now sported a full beard.

“You there,” Cullen pointed at him. “Mage or beggar?”

Anders laughed. “Must you really ask that, Commander?”

At hearing Anders’ voice, Cullen’s eyes widened in surprise. “Anders?!”

Cullen shoved through the other recruits, and pulled Anders aside. “We…we thought you were dead. We spent two weeks searching for you and when we couldn’t find you, we assumed the worst. We even held a memorial service for you.”

“Wow, really? A memorial?” Anders was touched.

Cullen nodded. “We all mourned but Fenris took it the hardest. He blames himself for having lost you.”

“Where is he?” Anders asked. “I should probably go talk to him. And where are Hawke and Varric?”

“Hawke is investigating Venatori activity with Dorian. Varric is with him,” Cullen explained. “As for Fenris, well why don’t we get you cleaned up first and then you can see for yourself.”

Anders didn’t like the sound of that, but he nodded and followed Cullen. “This is my office, climb the ladder to my loft. You can use my supplies and wash basin to fix yourself up.”

“Thank you,” Anders said gratefully as he slowly climbed the ladder. Anders took his time, using Cullen’s grooming tools to cut his hair back to a more manageable shoulder length. He then trimmed his beard closely before deciding to shave it entirely. Finally, he cut a small strip of cloth from his robes and tied his hair up into the familiar half pony-tail he usually wore.

After that he spent some time washing the rest of himself. By the time he came back down he felt almost human again.

“Better?” Anders asked as Cullen gave him an appraising look before smiling.

The Commander then led Anders through a confusing array of corridors and staircases until they stood in front of a door tucked into a corner of the keep which overlooked the interior gardens.

Cullen knocked cautiously before speaking. “Fenris, I have someone here who would like to see you.”

Anders could hear an almost feral growl come from beyond the door. “Tell them I don’t want to see them!”

“Fenris?! Fenris, it’s me. It’s Anders,” the mage said, loud enough for it to carry through the heavy wood. “I didn’t die. I’m sorry it took me so long to find my way here.”

There was a long pause of absolute silence and then the door flung open. Anders gasped at what he saw. Fenris was a shadow of his former self. Wearing only his leggings and nothing more, Anders saw how impossibly thin he had gotten, his ribs clearly visible. His face was drawn and gaunt, dark circles were visible below his sunken eyes that were clearly red from too much crying and probably lack of sleep.

“Oh Fenris!” Anders breathed. “What have you done to yourself?”

Fenris looked at him in disbelief. “Anders?”

“It’s me Fenris,” Anders acknowledged. Fenris took a halting step towards him, reaching out, touching the mage’s chest to see if he were real.

“You’re real? You’re alive?” Fenris said in disbelief.

“Yes, I’m alive,” Anders acknowledged as Fenris flung his arms around him, burying his face into the crook of Anders’ neck.

Fenris broke down and cried then, slumping against the mage. Anders picked up the frighteningly thin form and carried him back into the room he had come from and laid him down onto the bed.

“I should let you rest,” Anders said. “When is the last time you ate?”

Fenris clung to him. “Don’t…don’t leave. Please.”

“Alright, I won’t leave,” Anders frowned. “Cullen, can you please have some food brought? I think for Fenris a clear broth with some plain bread. For me, I’ll take anything. I haven’t eaten in hours myself.”

Cullen nodded. “I’ll have it brought up to you. Take care of him. There’s a lot to fill you in on, but it can wait.”

Anders nodded. “Thank you, Cullen.”

***

Anders settled next to Fenris and let the elf curl up next to him. He slowly ran his fingers through the once snowy white hair, now dull and grey from neglect. “Did you really miss me that much?” Anders practically whispered.

Fenris nodded. “When you were taken, there was always hope that you were alive, but losing you in the blizzard, it felt hopeless. We were sure you died on that mountain.”

“I am hard to kill,” Anders joked.

Fenris huffed in amusement and looked up at Anders. “How did you survive that blizzard, alone?”

“I found a cave,” Anders explained. “I used my magic to keep warm and melted snow for water. I was starving but I was alive. I kept sending up electrical flares, hoping that someone would see them. It took over a week, but a man finally did find me. I think he was either a hunter or ranger of some sort. He had a sled and was able to take me down out of the mountains, close to Orzammar. I spent a month in Orzammar, hoping to hear word of the Inquisition survivors.”

“They let you into Orzammar?” Fenris wondered.

“Yes, because above all else, I’m technically still a Grey Warden,” Anders clarified. “The dwarves always welcome Grey Wardens.”

“I always forget that you are a Grey Warden,” Fenris huffed. “You don’t look like a Grey Warden.”

“Well I would if I wore my uniform,” Anders chuckled. “I think I still have it stashed somewhere in the clinic back in Kirkwall. If we ever make it back there, remind me and I’ll put it on for you.”

“I can’t picture you in anything other than these ridiculous feathers,” Fenris teased, running his hands through the feathered pauldrons of the coat he still wore, the one that had been a gift from Dorian.

Then Fenris curled himself onto Anders’ lap and shut his eyes tight. “Please, don’t wake me up this time. I don’t want to wake up to a world without you in it.”

“Oh Fenris, I promise you, you’re not dreaming,” Anders sighed, fighting the tight clench in his chest.

***

After the food arrived from the kitchens, Anders managed to get Fenris to eat some bread dipped in broth and he asked for them to draw a bath for the elf. An hour later found Anders peeling Fenris out of his leggings, and divesting himself of his own clothes, before carrying the elf to the bath.

Anders stepped in and lowered himself into the water he heated himself, still holding Fenris to him.

He slowly washed Fenris as best as he could, getting the elf clean, before focusing on himself. Fenris just sat there, not moving or saying much.

Once Anders was done, he picked Fenris up and wrapped him in the thick fluffy towels that had been brought and dried them both off. Right now, Anders treated Fenris with the clinical detachment of a healer. Fenris’ naked form was not one to be ravaged, but to be nursed back to health.

The Inquisition had also provided them with fresh clothes, and he dressed himself and Fenris into the loose rough spun breeches and shirts before helping Fenris back into bed.

Anders reheated the remainder of the broth and sat down next to Fenris. “Come on, you need to eat a bit more. For me, please?”

Fenris looked up at him and nodded. “For you, Anders.”

***

In the middle of the night, Anders awoke as Fenris began to thrash next to him in the bed. “No! Mage! Don’t leave me!”

Anders woke Fenris up with a gentle shake. “Hey, shhh. I’m right here. I’m not leaving. I’m right here.”

Fenris came back to himself and blinked, looking at Anders in surprise. “You really are here?”

Anders nodded. “Yes, I am, you silly elf.”

Fenris reached up and caressed the mage’s face. “So, I wasn’t dreaming earlier?”

“No, you weren’t. I fed and bathed you,” Anders confirmed.

Fenris sighed and curled into Anders’ arms. “Never leave again,” Fenris ordered before falling back to sleep.

Anders quirked a small smile as he kissed the top of the elf’s head. “I don’t plan to leave again. Not for a while anyway.” He didn’t know what the loss of some of his Grey Warden abilities meant, but he still feared having to face the real Calling someday.

***

The next day found Fenris more himself, as Anders insisted he try and eat small amounts of food in order to get his strength back.

They were sitting in the garden, enjoying the surprisingly warm sunshine, while Anders slowly fed the elf small slices of apple, along with some bread and cheese.

“I…I understand now,” Fenris confessed, after eating the last apple slice.

“You understand what?” Anders asked.

“I understand how much I must have hurt you,” Fenris said quietly. “Back in Kirkwall, when I blamed you for Hawke’s actions. I am so very sorry.”

“Is that why you were withering away?” Anders asked. “Because you were sorry for how you reacted to the news of the destruction of the Conclave?”

Fenris nodded. “That was part of it. I also blamed myself for losing you in the blizzard. Once we were certain you were…gone…I finally realized how much I really do care for you and I never had the chance to tell you. Anders…”

“Shhh. I’m here, I’m safe,” Anders reassured Fenris, not ready to hear the confessions of an elf who so recently still grieved his loss. Instead Anders reached out to stroke the side of the elf’s face.

“Please,” Fenris leaned into Anders’ touch. “Please forgive me. I should have never blamed you for something that Hawke hadn’t even done.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Anders said simply. “You didn’t intend for me to neglect myself. That was my choice.”

“I know, but I should have known how much I was hurting you,” Fenris sighed. “Now I understand. I promise, I’ll never do that to you again.”

Anders just pulled the elf into his arms and held him.

***

A week later Hawke and his party returned. Fenris had regained some of his strength under Anders’ gentle ministrations and they both were in the courtyard to greet them. Cullen had sent word to Hawke ahead of their arrival about Anders’ safe return.

Hawke, Dorian and Varric all let out loud cheers when they saw Anders. Hawke ran up and grabbed the mage, and hugged him, twirling him in circles.

“It’s good to see you Blondie,” Varric laughed. “You’re looking better Broody.”

Fenris nodded. “I no longer have a reason to mourn.”

Dorian was next to give Anders a hug. “I am very glad to see that all of our mourning was premature.”

“We must meet in the tavern later so you can relate all of your adventures to us,” Dorian grinned as he grabbed Hawke’s hand and started to drag him away. “Come now Amatus. We need to wash all this travel filth from us and change. We positively reek!”

Anders looked at Cullen and Fenris. “Amatus?!”

“It means…” Fenris began.

“I know what it means!” Anders said with exasperation. “Why is Dorian calling Hawke his Amatus?”

Varric chuckled. “You missed a lot while you were out there playing dead. We’ll fill you in tonight at the Herald’s Rest.”

“Oh, Anders, when you have a moment can you come see me in my office?” Cullen requested.

“I could come after lunch?” Anders suggested.

“That will be fine,” Cullen nodded and went on his way.

“Varric, want to join us for lunch?” Anders asked.

“Sorry Blondie, but I have a mission report to write up,” Varric shrugged, leaving the mage and the elf alone in the courtyard.

***

After lunch Anders found himself on his way to Cullen’s office, being trailed by his now constant elven shadow. Fenris refused to let the mage out of his sight.

Anders still couldn’t believe how far both he and Cullen had come since they first met at Kinloch hold all those years ago. The fact they both even survived the Fifth Blight was remarkable.

Anders entered the office and found Cullen behind his desk grumbling over a stack of paperwork.

“You wanted to see me?” Anders asked.

“Ah yes, please come in,” Cullen invited. “So, now that you’ve had a week to recover from your ordeal and it looks like Fenris is slowly on the mend, I’d like to know if you plan to remain with the Inquisition or not?”

Anders was dumbfounded. “You know I hadn’t even given it any thought, have you Fenris?”

The elf shoot his head. “No, I hadn’t.”

“We could use you both,” Cullen explained. “Our infirmary is woefully understaffed. Most of the rebel mages we recruited have some sort of battle specialty and there are just not enough healers and not a single Spirit Healer among them. Also, Cassandra and I could use additional help training our troops for combat.”

“So, if we formally joined the Inquisition, I would be working in the infirmary, and Fenris would assist in training the troops?” Anders asked for clarification.

“Yes, although to be honest I would like you to oversee the infirmary,” Cullen clarified. “You ran a very successful clinic in Kirkwall and I think you know how to run things better than the few mages we have on hand currently.”

“You knew about my clinic?” Anders asked in surprise.

Cullen chuckled. “Of course, we knew,” Cullen replied. “I made sure Meredith didn’t know. You were doing a good service for the people of Kirkwall. Especially the people of Darktown. I saw no need to lock you in the gallows for wanting to help people.”

“I guess I misjudged you,” Anders said in apology. “What do you think Fenris? Should we stay? Maker knows Varric probably still needs help keeping Hawke out of trouble.”

Fenris chuckled and agreed. “Yes, I’d like to stay.”

“Excellent!” Cullen exclaimed. “I shall put in for a requisition for new quarters for you both. Anders I’m sure you’d like to be close to the new infirmary that we’re building? Fenris, there are several open rooms near the courtyard where we train the troops.”

“Oh, can’t we just stay in the room we’re already in?” Anders asked, taking Fenris’ hand in his. “We…um…we don’t mind sharing.”

Cullen looked mildly surprised. “Those quarters are reserved for guests, I’m afraid. However, the quarters near the infirmary are slightly larger of the two I mentioned and would be more suitable for two, so I’ll assign that to you both.”

Anders shrugged. “Alright, thank you.”

***

That evening at the Tavern they had a rousing reunion with Hawke, Dorian and Varric. Anders recounted how he managed to survive and his various adventures that eventually led him to Skyhold.

“We really are glad you’re alive,” Dorian said. “All of us.”

“So, you and Hawke?” Anders asked slyly.

Dorian blushed. “Yes, well we had been flirting ever since we’d first met in Redcliffe and after Halward tried to drag me back home the dam just broke and we finally consummated our budding relationship. The rest, as they say, is history!”

“Wait, Halward was here?” Anders asked, his tone a mix of anger and fear.

“Oh, no he never came to Skyhold,” Dorian clarified. “He sent for me in Redcliffe and tried to convince me to come back home. This big lummox here,” Dorian wrapped an arm around Hawke and drew him closer. “He just grabbed and kissed me right there in front of him. The Inquisitor himself was making out with his wayward son.”

“Inquisitor?” Anders asked.

Hawke blushed. “You have missed a lot. They decided to name me the Inquisitor. I’m actually in charge of all this now.”

“That must have sent the Chantry reeling,” Anders laughed. “How many titles do you have now?”

“Too many!” Hawke joked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always think Anders is happiest when he's among his closest friends. Also, I think both he and Fenris have suffered enough for each other, don't you?


	21. The Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris find themselves in the Fade with Hawke and several other companions. Will they all make it out alive?

**9:42 Dragon.**

Hawke was in his element as Inquisitor, running all over Ferelden and Orlais and saving the world was what he was destined for. All the time he had spent running around Kirkwall and saving people had just been a warm-up for his role as Inquisitor.

His fame spread far and wide, and it seemed almost like people forgot that he was the one at the heart of the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry that had ignited the war between mages and Templars in the first place.

Now Hawke and Cullen were leading the charge against Adamant Fortress, and he decided for this mission he needed his old _crew_ with him. He insisted that Anders, Fenris, and Varric were going to watch his back in the fight at Adamant, while the rest of his erstwhile followers were to support Cullen and the troops.

However, Dorian had also insisted on also coming along, rather than stay behind with Cullen. _“I’m not letting you out of my sight, Amatus,”_ were Dorian’s exact words and Hawke decided for once to expand his normal team. Stroud also was included because he was needed to help deal with the other Grey Wardens and Warden-Commander Clarel.

***

That’s how Hawke, Anders, Fenris, Varric, Dorian and Stroud all found themselves walking physically in the Fade. They had fought their way to the top of the fortress, only to have the bridge they stood upon crumble beneath them. If it hadn’t been for Hawke’s quick thinking to use the mark on his hand to open a Fade rift, instead of close one, they would have all plunged to their deaths.

“Oh, the places you take me, Amatus,” Dorian teased. “I never realized how much of a romantic you were.”

“The next time you two plan a romantic getaway in the Fade,” Varric joined in. “Please, leave me out of it.”

As they made their way through the Fade, they encountered the spirit that had taken on the guise of Divine Justinia. She revealed that she had been the one to guide Hawke out of the Fade when he had been blown through the Veil during the destruction of the Conclave.

The spirit guided them through the Fade and helped restore Hawke’s missing memories.

“Well, it figures you’d do that to yourself,” Fenris derided his friend after all the memories had been restored. “You have always been one to dive headfirst into danger.”

“Well now we understand how this whole mess started,” Hawke said. “That Orb must have blasted me right into the Fade, even while it completely destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes.”

“You were very lucky to survive that,” Anders said. “It does make me wonder how Corypheus got his hands on that orb, and what his plans were for it. Clearly, it involved blood magic since he needed a sacrifice to do whatever he had originally intended.”

“Oh, he told me what he had planned, and how I ruined it,” Hawke explained. “It happened when I encountered him in Haven. He wanted to enter the Fade, return to the Black City and from there claim the Maker’s throne. Once he had achieved godhood, he planned to restore the glory of the Tevinter of old.”

Dorian huffed. “Typical. Why can’t anyone from my homeland come up with something a little more original?”

The spirit continued to guide them towards the nearest Fade rift that would get them home. As they made their way, everyone was being taunted by the Nightmare demon that was pursuing them. The demon was angered by Hawke’s interference, which stopped the steady influx of fear from the Grey Wardens. Now that the Grey Wardens knew the truth of Erimond’s plans, their fear turned to determination.

As they turned a corner, they encountered a new spirit, one wearing a full set of plate armor. “HELLO, OLD FRIEND,” the spirit said, clearly addressing Anders.

“Justice!!!” Anders cried out. “You are alive! Thank the Maker!”

“YES,” Justice replied. “I am glad to see you are also well, and returned to your friends.”

“What happened to you?” Anders asked.

“When they placed the collar on you,” Justice explained. “It cut you off from the Fade, but at the same time, it actually drew me into the Fade. It created a path for me to return home.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Dorian mused. “The Qun is paranoid about the possession of their mages. It makes sense that they make a collar that not only blocks their magic but also prevents a spirit or demon to take possession of them.”

“I must tell you something as well,” Justice continued. “When I was drawn back into the Fade I had an opportunity to do something for you. I removed the taint within you. I know that weighed heavily upon your mind, so you no longer have to fear The Calling.”

“I’m…speechless,” Anders said, happy that his suspicions were finally confirmed. “Thank you. I suppose I truly am not a Grey Warden anymore, just like Grand Enchanter Fiona. It makes me wonder if she’d been _cured_ in a similar fashion?”

***

As they continued to follow the spirit, Justice remained with them. Anders told Justice everything that had happened to him and the armored spirit became very angry regarding how Anders had been treated in Tevinter. He even offered to repossess Anders in order to exact vengeance.

Fenris growled at the idea, and Anders laughed. “Thank you, Justice, but I’m fine now, and I’m serving the greater good through the Inquisition. You’d be proud of me. I think it’s for the best if you stay at home this time. I have had enough of spirit possession for one lifetime.”

“As you wish,” Justice replied. “However, I will see you safely out of the Fade.”

“Thank you.”

***

As they saw the rift leading back out of the Fade ahead, they began running as fast as their exhausted bodies would carry them.

Dorian, Varric, and Stroud made it to the rift entrance before the Nightmare demon was on them again, blocking the way. Hawke skidded to a halt with Anders and Justice behind him. “Maker’s balls that thing is huge! We need a distraction!”

Hawke immediately began to run towards the demon, always the first one to sacrifice himself. “No! Hawke!”

Justice ran after Hawke and stopped him. “No. You cannot. Thedas still needs you. I can distract Nightmare long enough for you and Anders to get out.”

“Are you sure?” Hawke asked as Anders caught up to them.

“I am a denizen of the Fade. I know how to deal with this demon. Just go!” Justice insisted before turning and taking on the demon. Hawke hesitated for only a second longer before he felt Anders grab his arm and drag him towards the rift.

As soon as Hawke and Anders were safely through, Hawke turned the energy of the mark onto the rift and sealed it.

***

“You were going to sacrifice yourself, weren’t you?!” Dorian yelled at Hawke. Dorian had been getting steadily louder in his argument with Hawke ever since the Inquisitor returned from the Fade with Anders.

“How could you be so bloody selfish?!” Dorian continued to yell.

Anders and Fenris sat together by one of the many campfires in and around Adamant. The mage winced as Dorian’s voice kept getting louder, while Fenris hugged him tightly.

“You weren’t going to sacrifice yourself too, were you?” Fenris asked quietly.

Anders shook his head and smiled at the elf. “No, I couldn’t,” Anders replied. “All I could think about was you and I just couldn’t break your heart like that again. Now if Justice and I had still been joined, it would have been a different thing entirely. I’m not at all surprised he sacrificed himself to save us.”

Fenris huffed. “Well I suppose that _spirit_ wasn’t really all that bad after all.”

“I promised I’d never leave you alone again,” Anders said as he brushed some of Fenris’ hair out of his eyes. “I meant that.”

Fenris nuzzled his head under Anders’ chin and just snuggled into the taller man’s arms, content that _his mage_ did come back. This time.

***

On the march back to Skyhold, Anders approached Hawke. “Thanks for sparing the Grey Wardens,” Anders said gratefully. “I know they fucked up royally, but we really never know when another Blight will be triggered. Especially with a lunatic like Corypheus still on the loose.”

Hawke nodded. “I know, that’s why I recruited them. We’ve foiled Corypheus’ plans with his Red Templar army and now his Demon possessed Grey Warden army. Darkspawn and Archdemons could be next on his list.”

“What’s the plan now?” Anders wondered.

“Right now, we get everyone back to Skyhold safely,” Hawke said. “Then we regroup and see what Corypheus plans next.”

***

Hawke had been sequestered with his advisors in the War Room for days now. They only took long enough breaks to eat and sleep. Clearly they were planning something.

Anders wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was being planned or get pulled into the plans either.

Instead Anders focused on getting all the troops healed and ready for the next battle, which he was sure would happen sooner rather than later.

Since arriving at Skyhold and taking over the Infirmary, Anders made it his personal mission to know every single mage with any level of healing ability. He kept detailed records of every mage and what level their current healing ability was, because he knew he couldn’t personally heal every single person in Skyhold and he needed to be able to call on others to assist when his mana ran low, or when he was called on to travel with Hawke.

Anders was trying to get back into some semblance of the routine he’d established in Kirkwall, and tried to keep regular hours. He made a promise to Fenris to always have dinner with him every evening that they were in Skyhold together.

Hawke had more rifts to close and once  the planning in the War Room had concluded , he was once again running all over Thedas completing various missions while they all waited for Corypheus to make his next move. He mostly took Dorian, Varric and the Iron Bull with him and Anders was glad to just remain in one place with Fenris.

Their relationship hadn’t progressed much but they were both kept busy by the demands of the Inquisition. Each evening, soon after dinner, all either of them wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep.

In the quarters Cullen had provided them, there had been only one bed, so they shared it. Anders favorite time of day was just before he fell asleep or awoke the next day in the elf’s arms.

Fenris was slowly becoming less distrustful of mages. He saw how the mages of the Inquisition were treated like normal people. By not being limited or confined like they had been in the Circle, they could be relaxed and be themselves. For the first time in their lives they were able to form relationships and not fear that their children would be torn from them moments after birth. Anders cried the first time he delivered a child and placed it into the arms of the first mage in Skyhold to give birth.

Fenris at first seemed surprised that none of the mages turned to blood magic or tried to overthrow Hawke. None of the awful things that Fenris always feared would happen if mages gained their freedom came to pass.

Anders reminded the elf that what had happened in Tevinter, happened a very long time ago, and under very different circumstances. It wasn’t just because they were mages that caused them to grab power. The Tevinter Magisters existed long before the Chantry or Andraste and there were a lot of things from those ancient times that were not well documented.

Due to this, Fenris slowly stopped flinching every time a mage cast a spell. Mages were casting spells everywhere in Skyhold as they trained for battles, helped with repairs to the fortress, and any myriad of other things.

Fenris was glad for the physical exertion he was able to get every day when training his group of new recruits in two-handed weapons techniques. It amused him when the newest ones would chuckle and laugh when he introduced himself, but he soon had them on their backsides after he drew his Sword of Mercy and came at them. “Never underestimate your opponents’ strength based on their size,” he cautioned as he helped them back to their feet.

Needless to say, the troops all gave Fenris a very healthy amount of respect.

Anders was happy that these days he was able to light the candles and fireplace in their quarters with his magic without worrying about Fenris’ reaction. The mere freedom to use his magic casually, without having to hide in the shadows, made Anders’ heart feel light. After all the oppression, he’d suffered in his life, he finally could live how he always had dreamed.

It did make Anders’ sad that Karl wasn’t here to enjoy this freedom as well, but he took solace in the fact that Karl was free of his Tranquility. The few Tranquil that were at Skyhold still gave Anders the shivers when he saw them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry about Justice. I don't spell it out, but he can take care of himself and as soon as Hawke closed the Rift, Justice got away from Nightmare. Fear holds no power over Justice. :)


	22. Tranquility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke tells Anders the truth behind the Rite of Tranquility.

**9:42 Dragon**

Hawke summoned Anders to his quarters one afternoon after he got back from his latest mission. He had gone with Cassandra to find out what had happened to the Seekers of Truth and they clearly had discovered something important.

Hawke was pacing in front of his desk when Anders and Fenris arrived. Hawke quirked an eyebrow and then shrugged. Of course, Fenris still went everywhere Anders went, if they weren’t both attending to their duties.

“What did you want to talk about?” Anders prompted.

“I think you should have a seat,” Hawke said gesturing to the couch. “We discovered something at Caer Oswin. Lord Seeker Lucius had The Book of Secrets in his possession. Apparently, it was only for the eyes of the current Lord Seeker and it contained something very damning. Something that I wanted you to hear from me directly.”

Anders’ heart was racing now, anxious to know what this big secret was. “Come on Hawke, just tell me.”

Hawke swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “The Rite of Tranquility. It’s reversible.”

Anders’ entire world came crashing down around him at the implication of those words.

“It’s…reversible? You mean Karl… could have?” Anders babbled, fresh tears of grief sliding down his face.

“I am so sorry Anders,” Hawke said. “We all knew the Chantry was fucked up. This just proves the point even more.”

Anders slid off the couch and crumpled to the floor, sobs wracking his form, crying anew for his former love. Fenris slid to his knees beside him and just held the mage in his arms.

“I would like your help to study the reversal process,” Hawke continued. “Take your time and think about it. I’m sure Dorian could help as well, but I think a Spirit Healer might be better suited to this task.”

Anders nodded, but was unable to give a verbal reply.

“I will give you two some privacy,” Hawke said as he began to make his way towards the stairs. “I’ll be meeting with my advisors while we discuss how to share this with the rest of the Inquisition. We will give each Tranquil the choice whether to reverse what was done to them, that much I promise you.”

***

Afterwards Anders just felt numb. He let Fenris lead them back to their quarters and sit him down on the small divan they had in front of the fireplace. Fenris then grabbed a bottle of wine and poured them each a goblet.

“I am sorry that this news upsets you so,” Fenris said as he handed Anders his goblet. “There is a bright side. Never again can the Chantry threaten a mage with the Rite of Tranquility. Hawke will not keep this a secret. Not after everything that’s happened. Especially after what the Venatori did to all the abandoned Tranquil in the Southern Circles.”

Anders gulped his wine and nodded. “I know. That part is good. I just wish that…” Anders choked on his words again as tears fell anew.

“You wish that Karl had lived to see this,” Fenris said.

Anders nodded. “If I hadn’t…”

“You cannot blame yourself,” Fenris chided softly. “That was twelve years ago. Would he have wanted to live that long as a Tranquil? He begged you himself to end his suffering, and you did.”

“I know,” Anders sighed. “I just still miss him so much.”

Fenris put down his goblet and grabbed Anders’ face. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs. “I know you miss him,” Fenris said sincerely. “But now you have me. You’re not alone.”

Anders’ breath hitched. “Do I truly have you?”

Fenris nodded. “Yes, you do. I know I have not been as forthcoming with my affections before, but I was afraid. A part of me still is. However, I’ve seen how truly good you are, and I no longer fear you. I love you.”

“Oh Fenris!” Anders sobbed, pulling the elf into a deeper embrace. “Thank you. I needed to hear that. I love you too. So much.”

Fenris pulled away with a smirk. “I am aware.”

They sat there and held each other for a while. Then Anders’ stomach made a noticeable grumble. Fenris chuckled. “Come mage, let us get you fed.”

They joined their friends in the tavern that night, although Hawke and his advisors were noticeably absent. Rumor was that they had dinner delivered to them in the War Room, which meant that they were planning on a long night.

***

The next morning Hawke called everyone to assemble in the main courtyard asking for all the mages to be allowed to be in the front.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of the Inquisition,” Hawke said loudly, trying to get his voice to carry as far as possible. “Seeker Cassandra and I made a discovery during our recent mission to Caer Oswin.”

Murmurs from the crowd began.

“I want to make this all very clear,” Hawke said. “The discovery we made was only privy to that of the Lord Seeker himself. Seeker Cassandra had no prior knowledge of this.”

The murmurs grew louder along with numerous “shh” from others.

“I need to make it known to all of you that the Rite of Tranquility is reversible,” Hawke continued and a collective gasp rose from everyone in attendance. “We have the knowledge on how to do so but we have never heard of it being attempted. Because of this, anyone in the Inquisition who currently is Tranquil will be given a choice. We will not force you to remain Tranquil, but neither will we force you to have it reversed if you do not wish it.”

From there everyone seemed to have a question and they began shouting them at their Inquisitor.

Hawke held up his arms asking for silence.

“I know you all have many questions,” Hawke said. “I have asked my close friend Anders to help us study the process to make sure it is safe. We will then talk to every single one of our Tranquil individually and allow them to make their choice.”

***

Anders sat at his desk in the infirmary, studying the Book of Secrets. He reviewed the ritual to undo the Rite of Tranquility and from what he could tell, it would probably be a safe enough procedure. What the reversal spell did was draw the lyrium from the brand out of the Tranquil mage, and heal over the scarring.

Fenris came in to check on Anders after he’d finished his morning training exercises.

“Fenris!” Anders breathed. “This spell…it could potentially reverse all of your marks as well. It would take a lot more work since your markings are extensive, but it’s possible.”

“Would doing that restore my lost memories?” Fenris asked as he sat down in a chair next to Anders’ desk.

Anders shook his head. “I don’t know. What was done to you was unprecedented. I do know we can draw the lyrium out of your skin and heal it, but beyond that I have no idea how it might affect you.”

Fenris contemplated it for a moment. “Why don’t we see how it affects the Tranquil mages first. For now, I think I need to keep my markings if I am going to fight in any future battles. Without them, I would be as weak as any other elf.”

“They hurt you, don’t they?” Anders asked.

Fenris shrugged. “They ache on occasion, but nothing I cannot easily overcome. If the procedure works, perhaps it’s something I’ll consider letting you do for me when my fighting days are over.”

“Fair enough,” Anders agreed. “Just come to me if you ever decide you want them removed.”

***

Helisma was the first Tranquil they approached to make the choice.

“I do not think it would be wise of me to choose this path,” Helisma said. “As I told the Inquisitor before, I was made Tranquil because I had a willful nature that made my being a mage most dangerous.”

“Helisma, that is a horrible reason to be made tranquil!” Anders chided. “I’m one of the most willful mages to ever exist. I escaped my circle a total of seven times. Even then, they did not make me Tranquil because I passed my Harrowing.”

“I see,” Helisma replied. “I do recall passing my Harrowing as well, but even then, they said I was too willful and so convinced me that the Rite was necessary. Afterwards, I felt much more at peace.”

Anders seethed. “It is against Chantry law to administer the Rite of Tranquility on a mage who has passed their Harrowing. Hawke! Talk to her!”

“Anders, you know we need to let them make their own choice in this,” Hawke tried to soothe Anders’ ruffled feathers. “You may not agree with her choice; it is one she must freely make on her own.”

Anders nodded with a sigh. “You’re right. So Helisma, give us your choice. If you change your mind later, we can always do this in the future as well.”

“For now, I choose to remain as I am,” Helisma chose. “However, I will think upon your words.”

***

In the end, all their resident Tranquil chose a wait-and-see approach, which left Anders frustrated.

“Don’t lose heart, my mage,” Fenris said fondly. “Just knowing they have the option is more than they had before. Perhaps some will change their minds.”

One afternoon Helisma came into the infirmary and Anders looked up from the research he had been doing. “Can I help you with something?”

It was unusual to see any Tranquil in the infirmary as they rarely injured themselves or complained of ailments.

“I have considered your arguments,” she said. “If it was against Chantry Law for me to be made Tranquil, then perhaps the Rite should be undone.”

Anders smiled brightly. “Are you sure? I refuse to see you made Tranquil again if we proceed with this.”

She nodded. “I am quite sure. Is this something we can proceed with now or do you need to prepare?”

Anders shook his head. “No, I’ve memorized the spell. Just go sit on one of the cots over there.”

Helisma did as she was asked and sat patiently. Anders’ heart was racing. Outside of Seeker recruits, he didn’t know if this had ever been performed on an actual Tranquil mage before. The theory behind it was sound but he wouldn’t know for sure what effect it would have until he completed the ritual.

Anders approached Helisma and placed one hand upon her shoulder. “Now please hold as still as possible.”

Anders placed his other hand about an inch away from Halisma’s mark of Tranquility on her forehead and began to speak the incantation needed as he started to work the spell through his hand. Slowly the lyrium embedded beneath her skin began to be drawn out and it seemed to evaporate with a hiss as soon as it left her skin.

Anders kept going until he was sure all the lyrium was gone. Just as he completed the spell, he heard Helisma gasp. “Are you alright?”

Helisma stared at him with wide eyes. “I’m…I’m...me again!” she exclaimed happily as she jumped up and hugged him. “Oh you, wonderful man you!” she grinned.

“Well I think we can call that a success,” Anders laughed. “I just need to heal the scar on your forehead and you should be good as new!”

Helisma nodded enthusiastically and Anders set to work to complete the spell and heal over the scarring from the brand. Once that was complete, Helisma rushed over to a mirror that hung on one wall and she ran her finger over the spot where the brand had once been. “It’s really gone! I can’t wait to show the others! Thank you!”

Helisma skipped out of the infirmary and towards the mage tower next door, laughing and calling out to people. Everyone was amazed at her transformation and it made Anders’ heart soar to see it.

Fenris soon came to see what the commotion was about and saw Helisma for himself. He then quickly went to check in on Anders. “I guess she changed her mind?”

Anders nodded. “She came to me herself and decided that if her branding had been against Chantry Law then I should remove it. Very cold and logical. Now look at her!”

Anders grabbed Fenris and pulled him up into a hug. “I won’t lie, I wish Karl were still here for this, but I am so very glad you are.”

“As am I,” Fenris agreed.

***

Eventually all the Tranquil at Skyhold chose the same path as Helisma and soon they added several new mages to their ranks. The newly restored mages were all very rusty with their magic and so several of the senior mages took them under their wing to help them practice and improve their abilities.

Two of them turned out to have a forte for healing, including one named Amelie who had a budding talent for spirit healing. Finding out that a spirit healer who had passed their Harrowing had been made Tranquil had shocked Anders. He thought the reason they had never branded him Tranquil despite his many escapes was because of the rarity of spirit healing.

After talking to Amelie, it turned out that she had been one of the first victims of Ser Alrik’s _Tranquil Solution_ back in Kirkwall. Somehow, she had survived Alrik’s abuse, gotten out of Kirkwall and somehow avoided all the fighting and the Venatori, to eventually find her way to Skyhold.

Anders decided to take Amelie under his wing personally and train her to develop her spirit healing abilities.

Fenris would smile fondly as Anders would excitedly recount his day and what progress Amelie had been making under his tutelage.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Anders. In this AU he's constantly blaming himself needlessly. But I do believe he really loved Karl and in my head canon, Anders choosing to kill Karl will always weigh heavily on his mind and heart. 
> 
> Also, yay for Fenris finally admitting he loves Anders (it took him long enough, eh?). ;)


	23. Looking Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Corypheus defeated, Anders and Fenris begin to make plans for their future.

**Late 9:42 Dragon.**

Hawke finally defeated Corypheus, sending the evil creature straight into the Fade where he’d wanted to go. The breach was now permanently sealed, as were most of the smaller rifts. With Corypheus gone, so too was the damned false Calling that had still be echoing in all the Grey Wardens’ minds, much to their collective relief.

Leliana was named the new Divine Victoria and Anders couldn’t have been happier. He had talked at length with her and Grand Enchanter Fiona in recent weeks and he was thrilled with their plans for mages.

The Circles and the Templar Order were both formally disbanded. Instead, Grand Enchanter Fiona opened a new College of Enchanters, to take their place. These Colleges would be run by mages, for mages. No more Chantry oversight or oppression. Once a mage graduated from their College they were free to go home, or they were welcome to remain and teach.

Everything Anders had ever wanted was finally coming true.

***

The night of the victory celebration found Anders and Fenris seeking a quiet moment on top of one of the towers of Skyhold, looking up at the stars. “What do you think about going back home?” Anders asked. “Corypheus is gone now, so Hawke won’t really need all of us to stick around while he mops up the rest of those rifts. I think I’ve had my share of adventuring for a while.”

“I like the sounds of that,” Fenris smiled. “However which home do we return to? I know Aveline granted you the Hawke Estate, but what if Hawke wants to return there?”

“Well, Dorian fixed up yours,” Anders shrugged. “I wouldn’t really care which one we occupied. I’d be equally as happy with my little room in the clinic in Darktown as well.”

Fenris shook his head. “No mage of mine is going to hide down in that dark hovel again. I think this time we should go back and build a proper clinic. We’ve both earned a princely sum for our services to the Inquisition. It should be adequate to get you a better location.”

“You would give up your earnings to help build a new clinic?” Anders asked. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Indeed, you have,” Fenris smiled. “However, I do not mind hearing it again, _Amatus_.”

Anders laughed and pulled Fenris into a kiss. It didn’t even occur to either of them right away that this was actually their first kiss, as Fenris melted into Anders’ arms.

Anders smiled brightly when he did realize it and Fenris chuckled before deepening the kiss.

***

Hawke was pacing and seemed visibly upset when Anders told him their plans to return to Kirkwall. “First Solas disappears, and Leliana is leaving for Orlais, then Varric decides he wants to go back home and now you two as well? Why is everyone abandoning me?”

“We’re tired Hawke,” Anders replied. “We helped you defeat Corypheus and literally save all of Thedas in the process. Now we just want to go home and live our lives again, in peace.”

Dorian got up from where he sat. “Remember Amatus, you still have me,” Dorian smiled and pulled Hawke into a quick embrace.

Hawke huffed. “Yes, until you decide you need to return to Tevinter.”

Dorian scoffed. “There is no way I would do such a fool thing. As soon as I’d step foot in Minrathous my father would most likely kidnap me again and attempt that horrid ritual. No, I have no intention of returning there.”

Hawke relaxed then.

“Where do you plan on staying in Kirkwall? Not that crumbling mansion of yours, Fenris?” Hawke asked.

Dorian and Anders laughed. “Oh dear, we did neglect to tell you something,” Dorian blushed.

Dorian and Anders explained how the Hawke Estate was now the Bauermann Estate and Fenris’ old mansion had been repaired and was now the Pavus Estate.

“That was my family’s home!” Hawke said in mock anger. “You stole it!”

Anders shrugged. “It didn’t look like you were coming back, and Aveline was still pretty peeved at you for destroying the Chantry.”

“Fair enough,” Hawke sighed. “But what if Dorian and I want to return to Kirkwall. I’d…prefer residing in my own home.”

“I have a suggestion, if I may?” Dorian interrupted. “I will write a letter that you can give to Aveline, granting Anders and Fenris my estate, if she would deed Hawke’s estate back to him, or at the very least deed it to me?”

“I can agree to that,” Hawke replied. “It could be named the Hawke-Pavus Estate?”

“Excellent suggestion Amatus!” Dorian smiled.

“So Varric is returning to Kirkwall as well?” Anders changed the subject. “When is he leaving? Perhaps we could travel together.”

“I think he said he will be ready to leave within the week,” Hawke replied. “You should talk to him about his plans. I would feel better knowing you all were together. Safety in numbers.”

***

Anders and Fenris went to seek out Varric, who was sorting through stacks of paper in his usual spot in the main hall of Skyhold.

“Hey Varric,” Anders greeted the dwarf. “Hawke told us that you plan to go back to Kirkwall within the week?”

Varric looked up at the mage and his elven shadow. “Yeah, I am Blondie, why are you asking? Don’t tell me you’re going to miss having me around?”

Anders chuckled. “No, actually Fenris and I were thinking of going back as well. Would you mind having some company on the road?”

“Do you both mind going the long way around?” Varric asked. “I don’t much fancy taking ships so I was planning to go on horseback up through Orlais to get around the Waking Sea. We can follow the Imperial Highway all the way to Cumberland.”

“What do you think, Love,” Anders asked Fenris. “Care to take the scenic route back to Kirkwall? We could stop in Val Royeaux along the way and get some of their fancy apple tarts you liked so much!”

Fenris blushed and nodded. “Yes, that does sound appealing. I suppose neither of us is in a hurry, so that should be acceptable.”

“Excellent!” Varric said. “I’ll arrange for two more horses from Master Dennet.”

***

The night before they were to leave, Hawke had Josephine arranged a farewell celebration. All the remaining inner circle were there, along with the healers Anders had gotten close to, and the soldiers that had come to admire Fenris as a mentor. It was decided that Amelie, as a spirit healer, was best suited to take over the infirmary and Anders couldn’t have been more thrilled for his protégée.

“Why on earth would you three want to go back to Kirkwall?” Cullen asked in a bemused tone.

“C’mon Curly, you know I grew up there,” Varric admonished Cullen. “It’s my home and always will be.”

Anders shrugged. “It’s probably the closest thing I can think of as a home, outside of the Circle or Vigil’s Keep, neither which are options for me to return to now, even if I wanted to.”

“What of your family in Ferelden?” Cullen queried. “Haven’t you tried to look them up?”

Anders shook his head. “Last I heard my parents had passed. I don’t think they survived the blight. I’m sure my siblings don’t even remember me. It’s probably for the best I don’t try and find them.”

Cullen nodded. “For what it’s worth, I do want to apologize again for everything you were put through.”

“Even for what I suffered in Tevinter?” Anders teased.

Cullen looked shocked and tried to stammer something else when Dorian sauntered up. “Did I hear someone deservedly besmirching my homeland’s name?”

“I was just teasing Cullen for his incessant apologies,” Anders chuckled. “Apology accepted, by the way, for the hundredth time.”

Fenris was being characteristically dour, hanging back and gulping his wine.

“Hey Broody,” Varric caught the elf’s attention. “What are you brooding over this time?”

Fenris shrugged. “I wasn’t aware I was brooding.”

The small group all laughed. “I wish you could see yourself sometimes, Love. You were most certainly brooding.”

Fenris shrugged. “If you say so. Personally, I just didn’t feel like being social.”

“You never feel like being social,” Anders teased.

Fenris nodded. “I suppose that is true enough.”

Hawke finally arrived with a gleeful smirk. “I have some gifts for the nearly departed,” he joked.

The first gift was obvious. It was a mages’ staff, that looked suspiciously familiar. “Is that, my old staff?” Anders asked.

Hawke grinned. “Well, almost. Yours had been destroyed by those slavers who took you,” Hawke clarified. “I had Harritt and Dagna craft this for me based on drawings. It should be even better than your old staff. I had Dagna add extra boosts for your healing and electrical spells.”

Anders pulled Hawke into a grateful hug. “Thank you!”

The mage took the offered staff and began to twirl it, getting the feel for its weight and balance. “It’s perfect!”

“Fenris,” Hawke addressed the elf. “I also had Dagna make some improvements to your Sword of Mercy. I hope you don’t mind?”

Fenris huffed. “I had wondered where the sword disappeared to. I thought perhaps one of the recruits took it as a remembrance of me.”

Hawke laughed. “I’m sorry, but I thought you’d appreciate some new enchantments that will work in conjunction with your Lyrium Ghost abilities.”

Fenris lifted the blade. At first it did not feel any different. Then Fenris then lit his brands and shifted into his Lyrium Ghost form. From there he immediately felt more powerful and lighter on his feet.

Once back to his normal form he slung the blade securely behind his back. “That will do very nicely. Thank you, Hawke.”

“Finally, my dear friend Varric,” Hawke said. “I’ve known you the longest of anyone from Kirkwall. I also know where your true passion lies. I decided not to try and mess with your beloved Bianca, so instead I had this made for you.”

Hawke presented Varric with an elegantly carved wooden box. Inside were a variety of new pen nibs, an elegantly carved new pen, and a sheaf of high-grade paper.

“Aww, Hawke you shouldn’t have,” Varric teased. “This is perfect actually. Once I get home I was planning to pen my next best seller. How does _Tales of the Inquisition_ strike you?”

Everyone groaned. “Just stick to the facts and don’t focus on any romances this time, hmm?” Hawke suggested.

“Aww you know how to take the fun out of everything, don’tcha?” Varric joked.

***

That night, Anders held Fenris as they tried to sleep. Anders couldn’t stop his mind from racing, excitement for the journey ahead and plans for their new clinic back in Kirkwall buzzing through his brain.

“You think far too loudly _mage_ ,” Fenris huffed.

Anders hugged Fenris a little tighter. “I’m sorry, am I keeping you awake, love?”

“No, I can’t sleep either,” Fenris confessed, turning to look at Anders in the dim light.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Anders asked.

“Probably for many of the same reasons you cannot,” Fenris shrugged. “The thought of returning home to Kirkwall. The fact that I now think of Kirkwall as home. What will the future bring for us both?”

Anders nodded. “Yeah exactly. For the first time, I’m not running away from something. I’m just returning to something. It feels oddly comforting.”

“There is one thought has been troubling me,” confessed. “Once we are back in Kirkwall. Will you continue to want to cohabitate with me, as we have been?”

Anders pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at Fenris, noting the worried crinkle in the elf’s brow.

“Why would you even worry about that,” Anders smiled reassuringly. “You know that I love you.”

“I know, but I worry because we still haven’t…” Fenris tried to explain.

Anders cupped Fenris’ face. “You mean we still haven’t made love? There are many ways for couples to show affection. I’m willing to be patient.”

“What if I never…want to?” Fenris asked quietly.

“Then we never have to,” Anders said firmly. “You know that I know better than anyone what you’ve been through.”

“I know but you…seem to have recovered better than I have in that regard,” Fenris sighed.

“That’s only because I have experienced pleasure through sex before,” Anders agreed. “I know that your only memory of it is pain and humiliation.”

Fenris merely nodded at that.

“Please stop worrying,” Anders leaned down to kiss Fenris’ forehead. “I love you. Every part of you, even the battered and broken bits. I know I won’t be able to heal all the pain you’ve endured, but we can learn to endure better, together.”

“Alright, I’ll try not to worry,” Fenris agreed as he turned around and let Anders pull him into an embrace as he snuggled closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for fluffy chapters! :) After all the angst I think I needed to get a bit fluffier. There is still a surprise or two left in this story though.


	24. The Journey Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders, Fenris and Varric journey back to Kirkwall. Anders runs into a couple of old friends along the way.

**Early 9:43 Dragon.**

They finally made it out of the Frostbacks when the weather finally turned warm and sunny. As they made their way along the Imperial Highway that threaded itself throughout Thedas, Anders was amazed at how accepting people were of him now. It nearly brought him to tears that he could venture out into the world and not hide the fact he was a mage, and that he was no longer considered an apostate.

When they stayed at an Inn in a small town a few days from Val Royeaux, Anders decided to ask the barkeep for the sudden change in the people’s attitude towards mages.

“I openly carry my staff and people can tell I’m a mage,” Anders began. “I know because of the Chantry decree, I am no longer an apostate, but why don’t people seem to fear mages anymore?”

“That’s easy,” the barkeep laughed. “A mage just saved all of Thedas. A mage that everyone had once hated and feared. A mage that who would have been executed if the Chantry had caught him. He had no reason to save anyone but himself. He showed us that not all mages are to be feared.”

The amount of acceptance was remarkable, even if not everyone was on board with the change in attitude. Every now and again as they kept traveling, an anti-mage slur could still be heard. Anders generally chose to ignore them, although he and Varric often had to reign in their feistier elven companion.

“I will not have them speak to you in such a manner,” Fenris growled.

Anders laughed. “You used to speak to me like that, not too many years ago,” the mage reminded him.

“Yes, well,” Fenris stammered. “I apologize for saying such things to you.”

“Broody, I swear if you plan to keep apologizing to Blondie the entire way back to Kirkwall, I’m going to be forced to write a book about it,” Varric teased. “I could call it _The Mage Apologist_.”

“You wouldn’t dare, dwarf,” Fenris snarled.

“Quit with the apologies and maybe it won’t see publication,” Varric demanded.

Anders just laughed.

***

It had been a week since they passed through Val Royeaux. They were keeping their horses in a slow trot, not being in a particular hurry, when two horses came up behind them at a gallop. As they passed, the lead rider immediately slowed down his horse and stopped. He turned around and rode back to the trio of travelers.

Varric, Anders and Fenris slowed their horses to a stop and looked suspiciously at the two riders who approached. They both wore cloaks with their hoods drawn over their faces.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Varric asked, taking the lead.

The lead rider then threw off his hood and looked directly at the mage. “Anders? Is that really you?”

Anders eyes went wide and he jumped off his horse just as the elven rider did the same. “Warden-Commander?! It’s been so long!”

They ran towards each other and embraced, causing Fenris to growl.

“You better introduce me before that attack dog of yours lops my head off,” Mahariel laughed.

“Varric, Fenris, this is Warden-Commander Theron Mahariel,” Anders introduced and then turned to Mahariel’s companion. “And you may remember Zevran Aranai from our little encounter with the Antivan Crows in Kirkwall.”

“It’s a pleasure, as always, yes?” Zevran said with a bow.

“You can stop flirting Zevran,” Varric teased. “We’re all taken.”

“You wound me,” Zevran teased back. “I will have you know I am also taken, by this handsome creature.”

“Zevran!” Mahariel admonished before turning back to Anders. “Where are you heading?”

“We’re traveling back to Kirkwall,” Anders replied. “Taking the scenic route after having served with the Inquisition for the past year.”

“You were with the Inquisition?” Mahariel looked surprised. “I didn’t think you had it in you to serve in an organization like that.”

Anders looked sheepish. “I’m sorry I left the way I did,” he apologized. “You had left and they recruited a Templar to _keep an eye on me_ and things got out of hand after Justice and I joined.”

“I had heard a rumor that you’d let him possess you,” Mahariel frowned. “Is he still in there?”

Anders shook his head. “No. It’s a long story, but he’s safely back in the Fade now. At least I hope he’s still safe. The last time I saw him he was fighting off a fear demon called Nightmare in order to save the Inquisitor, a Grey Warden named Stroud and myself.”

“I see,” Mahariel mused. “Do you mind if we travel with you for a while. We were heading towards Val Chevin to check out a lead.”

“Are you still searching for a cure to the Calling?” Anders asked.

Mahariel nodded. “Zevran and I will continue the search. I know there has to be a cure for it, and we’ve found some tantalizing clues, but nothing concrete yet.”

“I would love to discuss what you’ve discovered so far,” Anders said.

“Alright, but you owe me that long story about what happened to you and Justice as well,” Mahariel insisted as he mounted his horse.

“Fair enough,” Anders agreed.

***

“So, you actually got to walk the Fade physically? How did that compare to our experience when the Mother pulled our spirits into the Fade?” Mahariel asked as he stirred the pot of rabbit stew he had prepared over their camp fire.

“Oh it was much stranger,” Anders replied. “Seeing it all in reality, without the normal ethereal quality, was strange enough. Facing up against demons in their natural environment was terrifying.”

“I am very glad I missed out on both adventures,” Zevran admitted. “The short time I spent in the Fade when we were trying to take down Uldred at Kinloch Hold was more than enough for me.”

“That one was far worse than the time we met Justice,” Mahariel admitted. “Trying to unlock the way to where the sloth demon was hiding was frustrating, to say the least.”

“Well, I do wish you had solved it sooner,” Zevran teased. “I didn’t think I was ever getting off that rack!”

“So what is this lead you’re following?” Anders changed the subject.

“The whole thing stems back to the Architect,” Mahariel began. “Also Corypheus, if I think about it. They were both tainted but look how long they lived without turning into mindless ghouls.”

“Is that what was going to happen to you?” Fenris asked Anders.

Anders was nodding and Mahariel narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What do you mean _was going to happen_?”

Anders blushed. “I was going to explain that. I’m no longer tainted. Justice…somehow he managed to remove the taint from me as he was drawn back into the Fade. He wasn’t sure how, but I still retain my other Grey Warden abilities, but I probably will never hear the Calling.”

Mahariel looked at Anders in shock. “That’s it! That was what the lead was alluding to. Using a spirit to pull the taint out!”

“That’s going to be tricky business,” Anders contemplated. “But I think you’re right. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me sooner!”

“We may need your help,” Mahariel was thinking out loud. “As a spirit healer, you have the ability to reach beyond the veil and work with spirits in order to heal the injured. I wonder if those spirits could be coaxed to also remove the taint?”

“You know, you may be on to something there,” Anders agreed. “I may need to consult with a Tevinter Altus that I know. He was more learned in magical theory than I am, and he has access to a well-stocked library. I bet it’s all a matter of finding just the right spell.”

“Change of plans Zevran,” Mahariel announced. “We’re going to Kirkwall so I can work with Anders on this. We may have finally found our cure!”

“You know, I wonder if that’s what happened to Grand Enchanter Fiona?” Anders wondered. “She didn’t know herself how she was cleansed of the taint but she once told me that she had walked the Fade once as I had. Perhaps she encountered a spirit there that cleansed her without her knowing about it? Or perhaps the demon she encountered did it, although I don’t see why a demon would want to.”

“That would make a lot of sense,” Mahariel agreed.

***

Anders mind was buzzing with excitement when he and Fenris retired to their tent for the night. Fenris couldn’t help but smile at his mage.

“You’re practically glowing with excitement, Amatus,” Fenris teased.

“I know, this is just so exciting!” Anders smiled broadly. “I was so focused on everything going on with the Inquisition, it didn’t even occur to me the implication of what Justice had done.”

“Do you think you can find the right spell to make this work, or would you have to develop the spell?” Fenris asked. “How much will it drain your mana reserves?”

“I don’t know yet,” Anders said. “As soon as I get back to Kirkwall we will need to get the new clinic set up. I will want to set up a lab as part of it in order to conduct some experiments. Oh, I wish Dorian was here right now so we could discuss magical theories.”

“You and Dorian were once fairly close,” Fenris remarked.

Anders came up behind Fenris and wrapped his arms around the elf. “Yes we were, but you have no reason to be jealous. Remember I was bought as his bed slave.”

Fenris huffed. “Halward truly didn’t understand his son at all, did he?”

Anders shook his head. “No. Just because I was human made no difference. It still took me several months to convince Dorian to finally have sex with me.”

“That doesn’t help ease my worry about…” Fenris said softly.

“I wasn’t in love with him,” Anders protested. “I also didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. I didn’t know if you could ever return my affections. Just know, as long as I’m with you, this is enough. _You are enough_. However, if I’m trapped and cannot get back to you, that’s when…I might need the comfort of a warm touch.”

“Then I will never let you out of my sight again,” Fenris quirked a smile.

“I hope not,” Anders replied with a quick kiss to Fenris’ shoulder. “Now come on, let’s try to get some sleep. I want to try and get to Kirkwall a little sooner now.”

***

They began to ride as hard as the horses could take. Each night Anders began writing down all the thoughts he’d had during the day’s ride. Varric even sacrificed his gift from Hawke to give the mage more paper to write on.

“It’s for a noble cause,” Varric explained when he handed the box to Anders. “Plus then I can claim I helped end the Calling,” Varric joked with a wink.

They finally took a day to rest once they reached Cumberland.

“So Varric,” Anders said after they were all served a cold ale at the Inn they chose to stay at. “What exactly are your plans when you get back to Kirkwall?”

Varric shrugged. “I’ll need to see what needs doing first,” Varric said. “I will need to re-establish all my business contacts and check in with the folks running various business interests for me.”

“When we get back, could you help us scope out a better location for the clinic?” Anders asked. “I’d like a bigger space, with room for a laboratory as well as perhaps some private treatment rooms.”

“Yeah sure, Blondie,” Varric said. “I’ll have to see what’s unoccupied right now but I’m sure there’s gotta be someplace in Lowtown that’ll suit your needs.”

“You wrote to Aveline that we’re all coming home, right?” Anders thought to ask.

“Yeah Blondie,” Varric said. “I wrote to her about week before we left. I also told her about the estate changes that you and Hawke agreed to. I know she was still really pissed at Hawke the last time I saw her, but I hope she’ll see fit to let him have his estate back, in light of everything.”

“Well if not, I hope she’s okay deeding it to Dorian,” Anders said.

“She’s not an unreasonable woman,” Varric assured Anders. “So Broody, are you going to go back to helping out at the clinic?”

Fenris shrugged. “I suppose. I really don’t want to let the mage out of my sight again.”

Varric chuckled. “Yeah, I understand. But if you ever change your mind, there are a couple of different jobs I could set you up with.”

“Like what?” Fenris asked out of curiosity.

“You’d be perfect to help me run security on a couple of different operations,” Varric said. “Also, I could probably use someone like you to train any new security guards I may need to hire in the future.”

Fenris perked up a little at the suggestions. “I will think on it,” Fenris promised.

***

The next morning, they left Cumberland refreshed and ready for the final leg of their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't too much of a stretch but if Justice can effectively "cure" Anders of the taint/Calling, and maybe that's how Fiona was "cured" as well (it's a stretch but there is no canon reason how she was cured, so I'm running with it), why can't a spirit healer come up with a spell to cure other Grey Wardens as well?
> 
> This will take several chapters to resolve so hang in there! :)


	25. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders, Fenris, Varric, Mahariel and Zevran arrive back in Kirkwall and get settled in. Mahariel is reunited with an old friend.

**9:43 Dragon.**

Aveline greeted them at the gates when they arrived. She most likely had lookouts keeping an eye out for them so she could be there to greet them personally.

“Welcome back you three!” she smiled happily. “Who do you have with you?”

“Aveline, let me introduce you to Warden-Commander Theron Mahariel, The Hero of Ferelden,” Anders said.

Mahariel blushed at the use of his full title. “It’s an honor to meet you Ma’am. I am sorry to hear about what happened to your husband outside of Lothering.”

Aveline nodded. “You couldn’t possibly save everyone,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I have Donnic now and I have a good life, so I cannot complain. It is sincerely an honor to meet you. What you accomplished was nothing short of a miracle, ending the Blight as quick as you did.”

“You should see what he can accomplish in the bed chambers,” Zevran joked and Mahariel turned beet red. “Zev!!!” he admonished.

Aveline chuckled uncomfortably. “How have you been, Zevran?”

“I see you remember me, my dear lady,” Zevran flirted. “I do have a very memorable face, yes?”

“More like a very memorable reputation,” Aveline corrected.

“Ha! Yes, that is also true!” Zevran agreed.

Aveline escorted the group into Hightown. “Do you have the letters requesting the deed changes?” Aveline asked.

Varric pulled them out of his pack. “Here you go. Everything should be in order. They are letting you decide if the current Bauermann Estate should revert back to being the Hawke Estate or be renamed the Pavus-Hawke Estate.”

Aveline considered for a moment. “I think Acting-Viscount Bran would be more comfortable with it becoming the Pavus-Hawke Estate, although Hawke will be welcome in Kirkwall again. We even put his statue back up, after a few alterations.”

“What alterations?” Anders asked.

“He now looks like a mage, staff and all,” Aveline explained. “And he’s no longer wearing a helmet. We had them recreate it with his full likeness, including that ridiculous beard of his.”

“I always liked his beard,” Anders shrugged. “I don’t know if I’d recognize him without it.”

“Will you be going back to your clinic Anders?” Aveline asked.

“Actually, Varric and Fenris are going to help me open a bigger and better one in Lowtown. I have some very important research I need to conduct with Mahariel’s help. That’s why he’s here.”

“What sort of research?” Aveline asked.

“We think we may know how to cure the taint, and ultimately prevent the need for the Calling, in Grey Wardens,” Mahariel explained.

“Grey Wardens carry the taint?” Aveline looked shocked. “How are you still alive?”

“It’s a blood magic ritual that we undertake,” Mahriel explained. “So, while we do not die quickly, it slowly corrupts us until we either find a way to take our own life or we transform into a mindless ghoul and then someone does it for us. Regardless, currently a Grey Warden cannot live more than thirty years after his Joining.”

“So, if Wesley had been able to Join, could that have prolonged his life?” Aveline asked.

Mahariel nodded. “Possibly, or it would have killed him instantly. Not everyone who undergoes the Joining survives.”

“I see,” Aveline replied.

They went directly to Fenris’ former mansion. As they approached the door Orana came running out, Merrill following closely behind. “Anders! Fenris!” Orana cried happily.

Anders pulled Orana into a warm hug. “How have you been getting on Orana? Why are you here instead of at the other estate?”

“Oh well, Aveline told me about the changes and I came here prepare this estate for your arrival,” she explained. “I have a hot meal waiting for you, and there should be plenty of food. Will I be setting two more place settings?”

“Yes Orana, please,” Anders replied. “This is Theron Mahariel and Zevran, some old friends of mine. I’ll introduce you properly later.”

Merrill peeked around Orana then, her eyes wide after she heard the introductions. “Dalen? Theron? Is that really you?”

Mahariel laughed stepping towards his old friend, pulling her into a hug. “Merrill? What in Creators name are you doing here?”

“That is a long story, Dalen,” Merrill confessed. “Let’s speak of it later. I want to hear all about your adventures with the Grey Wardens as well.”

“Oh, before I forget,” Aveline said as they walked into the foyer of the house. “Here are your keys to the estate and the deed as requested has been changed to reflect the new ownership. Do you know if Dorian wanted to claim any of the furnishings he left here?”

Anders shook his head. “Not as yet. He said if he and Hawke ever relocate to Kirkwall from Skyhold, he’ll consider what pieces he might like to have then. Until then he’s letting us keep all of it.”

“How very generous of him!” Orana beamed. “He barely had time to live here before he left and so it’s almost like a brand-new estate.”

“Orana, after dinner would you make up one of the guest rooms, please?” Anders requested. “Mahariel and Zevran will be staying with us for a while.”

“Of course,” Orana said smiling. “It will be nice to have some other elves in the house.”

“What am I then, Orana?” Fenris teased.

“Oh you,” Orana scoffed. “You’re just not very…elf-life. You never have been.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Fenris acknowledged.

“How does one become more elf-like?” Aveline asked.

“Oh, swearing to the Creators like the Dalish do,” Orana suggested. “Or cursing all the shemlen like City Elves do.”

Mahariel and Zevran both laughed. “Creators, why are there so many shemlen?” Mahriel teased as he lightly pushed Anders.

“Alright let’s get settled in and have that meal Orana prepared for us,” Anders suggested, ushering everyone towards the dining room. “Just leave your packs here in the foyer for now.”

***

After dinner, Orana ran off to make up the guest room as requested and Anders led everyone into the great room that Dorian had set up as a place to entertain guests. “You don’t think he’d mind if we got into his Antivan Brandy, do you?”

“He can always buy more,” Fenris reminded Anders.

As they all sat around the fire place, a comfortable silence fell over the group as they quietly sipped their brandies.

Soon Orana came back. “Sirs, both the guestroom and master bedroom have been prepared, and I drew a hot bath for both.”

“Well boys, that’s my cue to leave,” Varric said, quickly drinking the rest of his brandy. “I need to go check in with Corff and check in with some of my contacts before it gets too late. Want to walk me out Aveline?”

“Of course, Varric,” Aveline said. “If you need anything, send me a message through the first city guardsmen you come across, or come find me in my office. You remember where that is?”

Anders nodded. “Good night.”

“Thank you for everything tonight Orana,” Anders dismissed the elf. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow about the new plans we have for the clinic.”

“Yes Ser, thank you. Good night everyone,” Orana said as she retreated to whichever servants’ room she’d claimed for herself.

Merrill and Mahariel had retreated to one corner of the great room, talking excitedly with each other, clearly filling each other in on their adventures since they had last seen each other.

Zevran watched the entire interaction between them in amusement. “Mahariel has told me many stories about his clanmates, including Merrill. It is a tragedy what happened to his friend Tamlen though.”

Anders nodded. “I remember him telling me about Tamlen and what he ultimately had to do to him.”

Fenris looked confused so Zevran and Anders related the story that they had been told, of how Tamlen and Theron had been out hunting in the forest and found ancient ruins that clearly had a mix of human and elven architecture. They had found an Eluvian that had become corrupted by the taint. Somehow Tamlen had been drawn into the Eluvian while Theron had been tainted. The only way to save his life was to join the Grey Wardens.

Then Zevran related when their camp during the Fifth Blight had been attacked by ghouls, and Tamlen had been among them. Theron had been able to bring Tamlen back to awareness briefly before he was forced to kill him.

Anders wiped away tears from his eyes after Zevran was done. That reminded him far too much of what had happened to Karl.

Fenris must have realized and too his hand. “Come Amatus, we have had a long day. Let us enjoy that bath Orana drew for us and get some rest?”

Anders nodded, and after saying their goodnights, allowed the elf to lead him up to their room.

***

“Would you like to share the bath with me, or should I just reheat the water when I’m done?” Anders asked Fenris as he set down their packs and closed the bedroom doors.

Fenris stood quietly contemplating for a moment. “We can share.”

Anders headed for the bathroom, which had a Tevinter-style sunken bathtub. “I’d forgotten how fancy this was,” Anders grinned as he began to remove his clothing.

Fenris looked a little shy as he watched Anders strip down to nothing.

“Why are you being shy?” Anders asked. “We’ve seen each other nude before dozens of times.”

Fenris shrugged. “I do not know. Perhaps it’s because of the weight of the feelings between us that I hesitate now.”

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t molest you,” Anders promised as he stepped into the steaming water. The mage sighed as he sank into the heated water, feeling his saddle-sore muscles slowly relax.

“Come on, silly elf,” Anders cajoled. “This water feels wonderful.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and began to undress. “You really are quite the handsome elf, you know.”

Fenris blushed at the compliment before stepping into the other end of the bath. He hummed appreciatively as the hot water enveloped him.

“You were right about the water,” Fenris conceded.

Anders laughed and began to wash himself. Fenris followed suit. Anders then looked at the elf sheepishly. “Would you mind doing me a favor? Help me wash my back? There are always bits I can’t reach.”

“Alright, then turn around,” Fenris indicated by circling a finger.

Anders happily turned and scooted closer to Fenris, handing the elf his wash cloth and soap. Fenris wet the cloth and added the soap, before starting to rub slow circles over Anders’ upper back.

“Oh, that feels really nice,” Anders praised. “I could do this for you as well if you like?”

Fenris rinsed off the mage’s back and turned around himself. Anders smiled as he took the washcloth and soap and rubbed the same slow circles into Fenris’ back.

“Yes, that does feel nice,” Fenris agreed, leaning into the touch, and then stiffening when he realized what he was doing.

“Hey, look at me,” Anders told him. “Don’t be afraid to enjoy something. I made a promise to you and I’m not about to just pounce on you because I think you’re enjoying me touching you. I will never do more than what you’ve consented to.”

Fenris sighed. “I know, Amatus. I just can’t help being wary still. Every time I try to relax, a new memory of Danarius’ abuse comes back to me.”

“Hmm,” Anders mused. “I have an idea. I just want you to think about it for now. Just consider this. Perhaps we try to explore a few things and try and replace your bad memories with new ones? We don’t have to let it lead to sex if you don’t want it to, but perhaps we can get you past some of your touch issues. You do well enough with cuddling in bed.”

Fenris nodded. “Yes, being embraced in my sleep does not trigger any bad memories for me. Danarius never allowed me to sleep in his bed after he was done using me. I was always forced to sleep on the small palette at the foot of his bed.”

“I think I might have gotten off lucky,” Anders said. “He never made me his bed slave. He had replaced you with another elf, but he hadn’t attempted to graft lyrium to his skin. He was just led around on a leash like a dog, poor thing. I was kept in a cage in his training room. Sometimes I wouldn’t see him for days.”

“I remember that room,” Fenris replied. “I saw what Danarius did to the slaves he kept in there. I am so sorry you were put through that.”

“I survived,” Anders replied. “There were days I wished he would just kill me, but I survived and now look at where I am? I still can’t believe it.”

Fenris reached out and cupped Anders’ face with one hand. “We both survived and have come far. I think it’s a testament to our strength.”

“We’re stronger together though,” Anders reminded the elf as he leaned into the touch. “Remember how we each fell apart when we thought the other was lost to us?”

“Yes, I would agree that we are stronger together,” Fenris said. “I don’t ever want to lose you like that. One minute you were next to me and the next minute you were gone. I almost lost sight of the caravan trying to find you but I was terrified of being left alone in that storm so…”

“I know, love,” Anders smiled. “It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Thankfully I found that cave and I was able to keep myself alive long enough for someone to rescue me.”

“I should find that man and thank him personally,” Fenris said with a quirk of his lips.

Anders laughed and then got out of the bath and grabbed a towel for himself and then for Fenris. They dried each other off and then put on the clean breeches and shirts that Orana had left for them to sleep in.

Making their way to the ridiculously large four poster bed that Dorian had bought for himself, they crawled into it. “My goodness this is even more comfortable than the bed Dorian had back in Minrathous. It’s almost sinful.”

Fenris laughed. “Magisters do know how to live a spoiled life.”

Then they both looked at each other and in unison said “Altus!”

“Hmm since I get to live like an Altus now, maybe I should claim the title for myself,” Anders teased.

“No, I think _mage_ is more that suitable enough for you,” Fenris huffed in feigned annoyance.

Fenris turned, tucking himself into Anders’ embrace as was their normal habit. Anders always smiled at how willing Fenris was to cuddle. The normally prickly elf was in many ways starved for affection and Anders was more than willing to provide as much of it as the elf would allow.

Just as Anders began to drift off to sleep, he thought heard Fenris say something. “ _Yes. I would like it if you helped me replace my bad memories_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a slower chapter. Something relaxing with touches of fluffy. :)
> 
> Merry Christmas to every one of you who keep reading my work. I appreciate you all!


	26. Love (+)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris finally overcomes his fears and makes love with Anders

**9:43 Dragon.**

The next morning Anders woke up to the familiar feeling of an armful of elf. He smiled and placed a quick little kiss to Fenris’ head to gauge his wakefulness.

Fenris turned in his arms and looked up at him as Anders propped himself up onto one elbow. “Maker, you’re beautiful,” Anders breathed.

“How?” Fenris grumped. “I am ugly and scarred…”

Anders shook his head. “No. I’m the one that’s scarred. You’ve seen my back, haven’t you? You…you are absolutely breathtaking. I hate what that monster did to you, but you will never be ugly in my eyes.”

To prove his point, he leant down and kissed Fenris deeply, trying to convey all his emotions through the simple act.

“Come on, let’s see what Orana made for breakfast,” Anders suggested.

They made their way downstairs and headed towards the kitchen. They could hear that Mahariel and Zevran were already up from the laughter coming from the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Anders greeted everyone.

***

As they sat eating breakfast together they discussed the plans for the day. “Zevran offered to take me on a tour of Kirkwall today,” Mahariel explained. “I’ve never been here before and I’d like to just take in the sights and become familiar with the city’s layout before we dive into our work. I’m sure it will take Varric a few days to find us suitable accommodations for your new clinic anyway.”

“What do you think Fenris, what shall we do today?” Anders asked.

Fenris blushed a bit before replying. “I am still weary from our journey. I think perhaps I would just like to remain here and relax.”

“Alright, then I can take time to organize the notes I wrote down during our trip,” Anders agreed.

After Mahariel and Zevran departed, and Orana had cleared away the kitchen table, Anders rose to begin the task he had assigned for himself. Fenris grasped his wrist then and Anders sat back down. “What is it love?”

“I…wanted to stay here for another reason,” Fenris began to explain. “Your offer last night, to help me replace my bad memories. Do you still want to?”

Anders smiled warmly. “Of course. Did you want to do that today?”

Fenris nodded his head sheepishly. While on the battlefield Fenris was a fierce warrior but when it came to more intimate matters, he clearly was much more timid, which was understandable considering his past.

“Alright,” Anders smiled. “Orana, Fenris and I are going upstairs to rest, please see to it that we are not disturbed.”

Orana nodded and Anders led Fenris back up to the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

“Come here,” Anders said with a reassuring smile. The mage pulled the elf into an embrace. “Is this alright?”

Fenris huffed. “Yes.”

“Ok,” Anders said as he released him and took his hand and led him to the bed. “I promise I won’t do any more than you’re comfortable with. We’ve just established that hugging, and by extension cuddling, is ok. We don’t have to do any more than that if you don’t want to.”

Fenris shook his head. “No. I do want to. I don’t know how far I want to go yet, but I do want to feel you touch me. To help me forget all the bad touches. Even after all these years, the memories still plague me.”

Anders nodded. “Why don’t we start by just lying down and holding each other?”

Fenris nodded and climbed back into bed. Anders climbed in afterwards and soon he had them situated where the mage was on his back while Fenris was curled up on his side with his head tucked under Anders’ chin.

Anders began to rub slow circles on Fenris’ upper back. “Is this okay?”

Fenris nodded.

“I need you to tell me to stop immediately if I start to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Anders said. “Then we’ll talk through it so I can understand why you needed me to stop, okay?”

Fenris nodded again.

Without changing their position, Anders began slowly caress Fenris through his clothes, starting with his upper back, slowly working his way downwards. He stopped at Fenris’ lower back, just letting his hand rest there for a moment, gauging the elf’s reaction.

“Can you describe how my touch feels to you?” Anders prompted.

“Warm,” Fenris replied. “Gentle. Loving.”

Anders kissed the top of Fenris’ head. “Thank you.”

The mage began to move his hand again with the same slow, soothing circles. At first he remained at the lower back but slowly worked his way down over Fenris’ buttocks.

At first Fenris tensed and a small hiss escaped from the elf, but he quickly relaxed again and so Anders continued, doing nothing more than just rubbing his hand gently over both taut globes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have an amazing ass?” Anders asked. “Because you do. It’s absolutely perfect.”

Fenris hid his face as he blushed at the compliment and its implications. “Does that mean you’d want to?”

Anders immediately stopped and sat them both up. “Maker, no. Only if you wanted it. I’d be just as happy if you made love to me instead. But I meant it, we don’t have to go there at all if you don’t want to.”

Fenris searched Anders’ eyes and only found sincerity reflected there. “I love you, Amatus. You make me feel safe and loved. I want to try…more. Please?”

“Of course,” Anders smiled and pulled the elf into a gentle kiss. Soon Fenris was kissing back more fervently, and Anders let him in, allowing the kiss to deepen.

Then in a surprising move, Fenris pulled back and removed his shirt before kissing Anders with more confidence. Anders smiled into the kiss, pulling the elf down on top of him as he lay back down.

Fenris sat back up, this time straddling Anders’ hips, with a frown. “So, you would allow me to…?” Fenris tried to ask. “Despite all that happened to you?”

“Fenris, I love and trust you,” Anders explained. “Also, I do really enjoy it.”

“I’ve never…done it that way,” Fenris said nervously as he toyed with the hem of Anders’ shirt.

“Do you want to try?” Anders asked. “I would love it but only if you want to.”

Fenris blushed profusely but Anders noted the interested twitch that came from inside Fenris’ breeches. “I…yes, I would like to try.”

Anders waggled his eyes suggestively up at Fenris as he pulled his own shirt off. “Then I’m all yours, love.”

Fenris leaned down and captured Anders’ mouth again, as he flattened himself on top of the mage. Fenris began to slowly rut his hardening arousal against Anders’ hip and the mage groaned into the kiss at the feel of it.

“I want to see all of you, love,” Anders breathed into the kiss. “Please, show me.”

While Anders had seen Fenris naked many times he’d never seen the elf in a state of arousal.

Fenris crawled off the bed and stood up to remove his breeches, letting his now obvious arousal spring free. It was larger than Anders would have expected for an elf, but not ridiculously so. It curved up just slightly, and Anders couldn’t stop staring at it.

“Does this please you, Amatus?” Fenris asked as he crawled back towards Anders.

“Yes, love,” Anders admitted at a loss for what else to say.

“May I see you as well?” Fenris asked, his voice even deeper now, and tinged with lust.

Anders slowly pushed down his breeches revealing his own erection, before bending his knees up to remove the clothing entirely.

Fenris’ eyes were lust blown, the green barely a ring around the black, as he drank in his lover’s naked arousal. He licked as lips and crawled closer to the mage. “May I…taste it?”

Anders was pleasantly surprised by the question. “You would do that for me?”

“This I know how to do, and I very much want a better memory of this,” Fenris explained. Anders nodded in understanding.

Fenris dipped his head down, tentatively licking the head of Anders’ now weeping cock. Fenris began to lap at the precum and hummed approvingly. “You taste good.”

Anders chuckled.

Fenris continued to explore his lover’s cock with licks as he reached out to touch it with his hand. “I was never allowed to use my hands. May I?”

Anders nodded. “Yes, _please_.”

Fenris’ hand felt cool as it wrapped gently around the base of his cock, and Anders shuddered and moaned at the contact. With his other hand, Fenris slowly explored the exposed head, running his fingers across the surface. “It’s so soft,” the elf marveled before giving Anders more kitten licks with his tongue.

Anders was beginning to grip the sheets tightly, fighting the urge to just buck up into Fenris’ mouth. “Fenris, love, please. I can’t take much more teasing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fenris apologized as he let go and backed away slightly. “What should I do?”

Anders took a deep breath to steady himself. “I really need to cum. Either I could do that myself and you can watch, or you can use your mouth if you want to.”

“Then we won’t be…doing the rest?” Fenris asked.

Anders smiled patiently. “Oh, no we can still do the rest. If I can cum now we can take our time with the rest. Okay?”

Fenris looked doubtful but nodded. “Okay. I think I’d like to use my mouth.”

“I’ll try and warn you before I cum,” Anders said. “Just in case you don’t want it in your mouth.”

Fenris nodded and positioned himself on his knees between Anders’ legs. The elf then put his well-trained mouth to work, engulfing Anders’ cock in his mouth effortlessly.

Anders tried not to think about how Fenris had learned that skill as his cock was being swallowed down the elf’s throat.

“Oh fuck!” Anders exclaimed. “Keep that up and I won’t last long. Ooooh!”

Anders could practically feel the elf smiling around his cock as he continued his ministrations. With all the previous teasing, Anders was rushing to the edge of ecstasy fast.

“Fenris…I think…” Anders tried to warn. Instead of pulling away, Fenris took Anders down to the root and began to swallow around the intrusion just as Anders came, his release being enthusiastically swallowed.

Anders was still breathing hard when Fenris crawled up and snuggled next to _his mage_. “Love, that was…amazing. Thank you.”

Fenris kissed him and Anders could still taste himself on the elf’s tongue as Fenris once again rutted his hardness against Anders’ hip. “Hmm I think we ought to do something about that, what do you think, love?”

Fenris nodded.

“Do you still want to try, or shall I use my mouth too?” Anders asked.

“I still want try,” Fenris said. “Will you tell me how?”

Anders smiled again. “Of course. Give me another minute so I’m not so sensitive,” Anders said pulling Fenris into another kiss.

Once Anders felt he was ready, he pulled back. “There are two ways we can do this. One on my hands and knees, and the other while I’m on my back. Which one sounds better to you?”

Fenris thought for a moment. “On your back. I wish to see your face. The other way is too like …”

Anders understood.

The mage spread his legs and indicated the elf get between them. “Now first, I need some prep. I haven’t done this in a long time so it’s likely to be tight down there,” Anders explained with a blush. “Do you want me to prep myself or do you want to do it?”

“You do it, so I can observe,” Fenris replied.

Anders then cast the slick spell he’d learned from Dorian, coating his fingers with it before reaching around and sliding one finger into his hole. “Oh yeah, definitely tight,” Anders grunted as he slowly worked his finger in and out. Fenris watched, fascinated, as the mage slowly stretched himself open.

“Ok, I think I should be able to take you now,” Anders said as he removed his fingers. “Are you ready?”

Fenris swallowed and nodded.

“Take some of the slick,” Anders held out his hand. “Coat your cock with it. It will make it easier for both of us.”

Fenris did as instructed.

“Now guide yourself with your hand until you’re able to get inside me,” Anders said. “Go slow, please.”

Fenris nodded. He took himself in hand and lined up his cock with Anders’ hole and began to tentatively press forward. Anders helped by pushing his hips forward at the same time, and relaxing his sphincter as much as he could.

Fenris abruptly stopped and backed away.

“Are you okay?” Anders asked with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…I’m afraid of hurting you…the way he hurt me…hurt us,” Fenris shuddered with revulsion.

Anders sat up. “Oh, no, love. You won’t hurt me. Not like he did. Never like that. There might be a little discomfort in the beginning but it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Fenris asked.

“Yes, love, I’m sure,” Anders reassured him. “Now you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but trust me, I very much want to.”

“Ok,” Fenris nodded. “Could you help me get ready again?”

Anders then noticed that Fenris’ erection had flagged. “I’d be happy to. May I use my mouth?”

Fenris nodded, and Anders repositioned himself so he could take the elf into his mouth. Fenris groaned when Anders slowly sucked him back to hardness. Anders kept going for a couple of minutes, making sure the elf was completely hard.

“Ready to try again?” Anders asked.

Fenris nodded. “I had no idea that felt so good.”

Anders chuckled as he repositioned himself onto his back and spread his legs to invite the elf between them once again. The mage conjured more slick and put some onto his hole and the rest onto Fenris’ arousal.

“Now don’t worry about hurting me,” Anders reassured the elf. “I will let you know if I need you to stop. Until then, keep pushing, ok?”

Fenris nodded and lined himself up again. This time Fenris pushed forward with more confidence and slowly he began to slide into Anders. As the head of his cock breached the ring of muscle Anders moaned in pleasure. “Oh yes, keep going, please!”

Encouraged, Fenris slid slowly in until he was completely buried inside Anders.

“Oh, love, you feel so good,” Anders moaned.

Fenris was breathing deeply. “Does it always feel this good?”

Anders nodded. “If it’s done right, it should always feel good for both partners. Now for the love of the Maker, please move.”

Fenris then began to slide back out and then back in, in slow, measured lengths. “Oh yes, that’s it. More, _please_ ,” Anders pleaded.

Fenris groaned as he began thrusting faster and deeper, the sight of Anders writhing in pleasure beneath him stirring him on. Anders looked up and saw the pure pleasure on Fenris’ face. With the sunlight streaming in from the windows behind him, the mage thought Fenris looked like the most beautiful creature in all of Thedas and his heart felt so full of love for him he thought it might burst.

Anders reached up and pulled Fenris down into a kiss, while the elf continued to thrust. The new angle felt exquisite and the mage realized he was fully hard once again as he and Fenris explored each other’s mouths.

Anders reached between then and began to stroke himself, amazed at how quickly Fenris was getting him there again. Anders hadn’t experienced love making like this since he had been with Karl, and even then, those hurried encounters hidden behind bookshelves or inside broom closets didn’t compare to this.

The heady combination of being with the one he loved, without fear of discovery, nearly overwhelmed him as he began to meet every one of Fenris’ thrusts.

“I…think I’m close,” Fenris rasped out.

“Yes, I am too,” Anders gasped. “Cum for me Fenris.”

Fenris began to thrust with abandon, his hips stuttering erratically as he chased his release while Anders began to stroke himself fervently.

Fenris then buried himself deep inside his mage and arched up with a primal cry. As Anders felt the hot release inside of him, it sent him over the edge and he cried out his own release as he spilled over his hand and stomach.

Fenris quickly collapsed next to Anders, making the mage wince at his quick withdrawal.

Once Anders came back to himself he realized that Fenris was softly weeping. “Hey, love, what’s wrong?” Anders asked as he gathered the elf into his arms.

Fenris shook his head. “That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. I hesitated…waited so long…wasted so much time.”

“Shhh…it’s okay. We still have the rest of our lives together,” Anders soothed. “You had every right to be afraid.”

Fenris kissed Anders again, almost desperately. “Never again. I shall never fear your touch. You have no idea the gift you have given me today. I didn’t think I could love you anymore but I do. I love you, Anders. My mage. _My Amatus_.”

Anders smiled at the word that had once been used as an insult, but had long since turned into a term of endearment. “I love you too, my beautiful, grumpy elf.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well *that* was a long time coming, wasn't it? (pun intended). This was the slowest burn I've ever written and it was a challenge for me. My muse kept wanting it to happen a lot sooner but I resisted. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. :)


	27. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders gets his new clinic and begins working with Mahariel to develop a spell that could potentially cure Grey Wardens of their taint.

A few days later Varric summoned them all to the Hanged Man. Corff greeted Anders and Fenris warmly as they walked hand-in-hand past the bar and upstairs to Varric’s suite, followed closely by Mahariel and Zevran.

“So Varric, have you gotten settled in again after being gone so long?” Anders asked.

“Half my businesses went to shit while I was gone,” Varric grumped. “I swear I need to hire more competent people before the next group of fanatics decides to kidnap and interrogate me.”

“Did you have some news for us?” Fenris said.

“Always right to the point,” Varric chuckled. “I’m glad to see some things never change. Yeah one of the businesses that failed was in the perfect building for you guys. Since I still own the building, I’m gifting it to you for the clinic.”

“Varric! That’s so generous,” Anders ran over to hug the dwarf. “How can we ever thank you?”

“By making it the best damned clinic that Kirkwall has ever seen,” Varric smiled. “Also for letting me get partial credit for whatever cure you come up with for those Grey Warden buddies of yours. If you want, we can go look at it now.”

Varric led the four of them out of the Hanged Man. They threaded their way through Lowtown, towards one of the entrances to Darktown. Anders and Fenris were holding hands and at one point Anders shuddered slightly at a memory. “Amatus, what’s wrong?” Fenris asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing, love,” Anders smiled reassuringly. “I was just remembering the last time I walked down this street. It was the night I was taken.”

Fenris squeezed his hand comfortingly. “Yes, this is the way you would have taken to Darktown from the Hanged Man. I am sorry. If I had followed after you sooner…”

“Fenris, it wasn’t your fault,” Anders said. “It was never your fault. I let myself get cornered in my clinic and I was the one who refused to help them capture you. Did you know they even offered me fifty gold?”

Fenris’ eyes opened wide in surprise. “No, you never told me of that. You could have done so much for your clinic with that gold.”

“Not at the expense of your freedom,” Anders replied. “Slavery is unjust. Justice would not have allowed to betray you like that. Nor would I have wanted to. I value freedom above all things, and not _just_ for mages.”

“We were such fools back then,” Fenris huffed out a laugh.

“Ugh, will you two get a room,” Varric teased. “Even I can’t write stuff this syrupy!”

Anders and Fenris both laughed while Mahariel and Zevran just looked at each other and shrugged.

“Here we are,” Varric said as he stopped in front of a sizable two-story building. “I think between its size and the fact this is close to the Darktown entrance, it’ll be perfect for your needs.”

Anders nodded. “I do like the proximity to Darktown. The folks there don’t like spending too much time up here if they can help it, but up here I can also help more of the folks from Lowtown as well.”

Varric led them inside. “This front room I thought might be a good place to use as a waiting area. You could get some chairs. Maybe even a desk and have someone determine the urgency of their problem?”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Anders agreed.

Varric led them down a corridor with several doors. “Each of these could be used as either offices or private treatment rooms, or whatever else you want.”

They looked at several. Each room was small but serviceable, and each had a window.

In the back was a larger room with several large windows letting in a lot of light. “I thought this could maybe be that laboratory you were talking about?”

“Yeah. I think this should be big enough to hold the equipment we would need,” Anders nodded. “What do you think Mahariel?”

Mahariel shrugged. “You’re the mage, you tell me.”

In the back of the room were a set of stairs that led up to the next level, which turned out to be just a large open space, interspersed only with a few columns to hold up the roof. “This space could be set up like the Darktown clinic, with rows of cots,” Anders mused aloud.

“It looks like you and I are on the same wavelength Blondie,” Varric said. “I’ve already ordered most of your furnishings. I just need you to give me a list of supplies you’ll need for the lab and this should be all set up within a week.”

“Varric!” Anders admonished. “Are you going to let Fenris and me pay for anything?”

Varric shook his head. “Nah. You’ve got that fancy house to upkeep now. And you really should buy yourselves some new clothes. Look, you’re providing a needed service to the community. You shouldn’t have to do that all on your own, and I’m happy to help. I have several other public works projects I’m planning to discuss with interim-Viscount Bran.”

Anders rolled his eyes and laughed. “Thank you Varric. Truly. I really do appreciate it. This place is perfect.”

They made their way back to the Hanged Man and Varric ordered a round of the _good stuff_ and they all toasted to celebrate the new clinic.

“Mahariel, help me put together the list for the laboratory. What things will you need?” Anders asked as he took a sheet of paper from Varric, along with a pen.

They handed their list to Varric once they were done. The dwarf whistled at some of the items. “Alright, I might not be able to get all of this by next week though.”

***

As the four of them walked back to Hightown, Mahariel was eyeing several other abandoned buildings along the way. “You know, I really should think about establishing a Warden base in Kirkwall,” he mused aloud.

“I thought you were just the Warden-Commander of Ferelden?” Anders asked.

“Well technically I’m not anymore since I left my post,” Mahariel shrugged. “Although I still consider myself on Warden business.”

“Curing the Calling I think would be very important Warden business,” Anders agreed.

“Well we’ll have to be careful though,” Mahariel cautioned. “We know we still retain some of our abilities even after the taint has been removed by the spirit, but the whole point of the taint is so we can defeat the Archdemons. What if, once cured, we cannot?”

“You mean because the Archdemon’s soul is drawn to the nearest being carrying the taint, right?” Anders asked for clarification.

Mahariel nodded. “The only reason I survived killing the last Archdemon was only because Alistair agreed to sleep with Morrigan. She had some dark ritual she performed that sucked the Archdemon’s soul into her unborn baby instead of it being absorbed into me, which would have effectively killed me.”

“I am still so very grateful to him for that, mi amor,” Zevran said. “Perhaps once we have concluded our business here we should visit him, yes?”

Mahariel smiled. “That’s a great idea, Zev. I haven’t seen him in far too long. We should see how he’s getting on.”

“Does he know he has a son?” Anders asked. “I actually got meet Morrigan and her son at Skyhold. He’s a handsome young lad.”

“No, Morrigan disappeared immediately after the Battle of Denerim and I haven’t seen her since. How is she faring?” Mahariel asked.

“She looked well,” Anders replied. “She had been acting as the Arcane Advisor to the Empress Celine in Orlais when Hawke met her. She decided to join the Inquisition temporarily in order to help bring down Corypheus.”

“Is she still with the Inquisition?” Mahariel asked.

Anders shook his head. “No. She left soon after Corypheus was defeated. She took her son with her as well. No one knows where they were heading.”

“She always was a tricky one, yes?” Zevran interjected.

“Yes, she was,” Mahariel nodded. “Yes, she was.”

***

A few weeks later and the clinic is running in full swing. Anders was warmly welcomed back by the denizens of Darktown and soon the citizens of Lowtown come to trust on rely on his services as well.

Anders found several volunteers who could help run the clinic whenever he was not available, including two mages with some minor healing abilities. They aren’t spirit healers, but they had enough talent to heal minor injuries, and to keep the seriously injured alive until Anders was able to get there.

***

One quiet afternoon, Anders was in the back working in the lab with Mahariel when he was summoned. “There are two Grey Wardens here to see you.”

Anders and Mahariel both looked at each other and shrugged before going towards the front reception area of the clinic. There they found two men dressed in Grey Warden uniforms.

“I am Warden Aldren and this is Warden Rubert,” the taller of the two introduced. “Are you the healer, Anders?”

“Yes, I’m Anders,” he confirmed. “And this is Warden-Commander Mahariel.”

Both Grey Wardens stiffen and salute Mahariel. “At ease. I stepped down years ago, in order to pursue other Warden related business.”

“How can I help you?” Anders asked.

“The Inquisitor sent us, as volunteers,” Warden Aldren explained. “He said you were working on a cure for the Calling?”

“We are, actually,” Anders replied. “I wrote to the Inquisitor several weeks ago. You both got here fast. We weren’t quite ready to test anything yet.”

“We came across the Waking Sea from Jader. We are here to help in any capacity we can,” he replied. “We were also asked to give you this.” He pulled out a packet and handed it to Anders. “It’s from Lord Dorian Pavus.”

“Follow me,” Anders instructed as he took the package and led the way back to the laboratory. “I know I asked Dorian to do some research for me on our hypothesis for curing the Calling. I wanted his input on part of the spell I’ve been stuck on. I wasn’t expecting him to have an answer for me so quickly.”

Anders placed the package down onto one of the lab tables and opened it. Inside was merely a letter and a pendant with a large crystal. Anders read the letter aloud.

_My Dearest Anders,_

_I am glad to hear that you made it to Kirkwall safe and sound, and that you find your new accommodations so pleasing._

_I am quite intrigued by your hypothesis but I really need to discuss this spell you are working on in more depth. That is why I am sending along this sounding crystal. All you need to do is grasp it in your hand and think of me and we’ll be able to speak with each other._

_I am looking forward to hearing from you soon. Best wishes,_

_Dorian_

“A sounding crystal, eh?” Anders sounded intrigued as he picked up the crystal and thought of Dorian.

The crystal began to glow and a moment later Anders could hear Dorian’s voice. _“Anders? Is that you?”_

“Dorian!” Anders cried out. “How did you come up with these marvelous things?”

 _“Sounding crystals are quite common in Tevinter,”_ Dorian said dismissively. _“Although in your position you were probably never privy to see them used. I worked with Dagna to create these since sending for some from Tevinter would have taken too long.”_

“How is Hawke doing? Not driving everyone crazy yet?” Anders asked.

Dorian laughed. _“No, he’s just running all over hither and yon closing rifts and saving the day as per usual.”_

“That sounds like Hawke!” Anders laughed. “So, in your letter you said you had questions?”

 _“Oh yes, so many questions. Can we arrange a regular time to talk? I really would like to help you develop the spell,”_ Dorian replied. _“As you surmised, it may also help explain what happened to Grand Enchanter Fiona. She and I discussed her past at length while she was still here and it was a mystery I know she would dearly love to solve.”_

***

Over the next several months Anders, Mahariel and Dorian worked together to continue to develop the spell. Dorian did the research from the Skyhold library, and Anders delved further into the spirit world to learn how to work even more closely with spirits while still avoiding repossession.

Normally when Anders healed, his magic would summon a spirit that would lend its power and help the healing process. Anders would convey what needed to be fixed and the spirit would help him repair the damage.

However, trying to communicate to a spirit to remove the taint wasn’t quite as straightforward and mending a broken bone and it would require just the right spell to achieve the same result as what Justice had accomplished in Anders.

Justice was able to do it because he was merged with Anders. They had been tightly interconnected so the spirit knew exactly how to remove the taint when he was pulled back into the Fade.

Working with a spirit on the other side of the Veil in order to affect the same result was much trickier, and they quickly realized that the spell they had to develop would have to be quite elaborate. The problem with elaborate spells was that they required more power and there was only so much power a single mage could gain from lyrium and Anders feared the only way to properly power the spell would be through blood magic. Anders refused to have anything to do with blood magic.

Unfortunately, it made sense that it would require blood magic to remove the taint, subsequently curing the Calling, from Grey Wardens. It was technically a blood magic ritual that turned Grey Wardens into what they were in the first place. Perhaps only blood magic could reverse it.

As promising of a potential cure as it once seemed, it was beginning to look very dark and Anders was frustrated in the direction their research was taking them.

***

One afternoon Anders was slumped at one of the lab tables in defeat, holding the sounding crystal before him. “Dorian, it just seems impossible. We’re missing a crucial piece for this spell and I fear only blood magic will be required to get us there. I wish I understood more about how to communicate with the spirit world.”

The crystal remained silent for a while. “ _You might not understand how, but we both know someone who does._ ”

Anders face lit up then. “Solas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When it comes to communing with spirits, the first thought I had was Solas. Now all they have to do is find him, and convince him to help them. Like that'll be easy! ;)


	28. Solas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Fenris attend the Exalted Council and Hawke finally tracks down Solas.

**9:44 Dragon.**

Dorian enlisted Hawke and the Inquistion’s help to try and locate Solas. He was the only mage they knew who was so in-tune with the spirits of the Fade.

Weeks had dragged into months and a new year came and went, and Solas was nowhere to be found. During this time Varric did a lot to help clean up Kirkwall. He repurposed the Gallows into a new shipping and trade center, cleared the way for a new Chantry to be built, and the most popular was helping Anders set up his clinic in Lowtown.

Because of the dwarf’s efforts, the citizens of Kirkwall elected Varric as their new Viscount, much to annoyance of interim-Viscount Bran, who was back in his post as Seneschal.

In the meantime, Hawke was having to face the music as an Exalted Council was called to determine the fate of the Inquisition. As Viscount, Varric was going to represent the interest of Kirkwall and the Free Marches and he invited Anders and Fenris to come along if they wanted to visit with their old friends again. At least they would only need to travel to Val Royeaux, and not all the way to Skyhold.

“Who is representing Ferelden?” Mahariel asked when Anders brought up the trip over dinner.

“Varric said it was Arl Teagan of Redcliffe,” Anders replied. “I remember you telling us about him. You met him during the Fifth Blight, didn’t you?”

Mahariel nodded. “Yes, we did. He was pivotal in helping us get inside Redcliffe Castle in order to save his uncle, Arl Eamon. That was when Teagan was still only a Bann.”

“I recall trying to woo him into bed with us,” Zevran said wistfully. “He was such a handsome man, for a human.”

“Did you want to join us? Perhaps you’ll have more luck with your wooing this time?” Anders suggested.

“Don’t encourage him!” Maharial laughed. “He’s bad enough to keep in check here as it is.”

“You wound me, mi amor!” Zevran teased. “You know all I do is harmless flirting and nothing more. You are the only one I wish to bed.”

“I should hope so, _mi amor_ ,” Mahariel growled playfully.

***

They all decided to attend the Exalted Council. As the _Hero of Ferelden_ , Mahariel thought he should at least meet the Champion of Kirkwall, Herald of Andraste and Inquisitor. “I think he must be quite impressive to have earned all three of those titles within his lifetime.”

Anders and Varric looked at each other and laughed while Fenris growled. This made Mahariel even more intrigued about Garrett Hawke.

During their trek towards Val Royeaux, Anders kept in communication with Dorian, who had surprisingly taken a trip to Minrathous upon the request of the Magisterium. Apparently, they’d named him the official Tevinter Amabassador to the Exalted Council. _“Can you imagine? Me? The Pariah of the House Pavus, an Ambassador?”_

Anders and Dorian laughed loud and long through the sounding crystals at that. _“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, old friend,_ ” Dorian said. _“Speaking through these damnable crystals isn’t quite the same, is it?”_

Anders agreed. “It will be good to see you again. Even Broody is looking forward to it.”

Fenris tried to give Anders a death glare for using that nickname, but even he couldn’t help quirk his lips into a half-smile when Dorian’s laughter burst forth from the sounding crystal.

***

The spectacle that was the Exalted Council was not entirely unexpected. Everything was, of course, done in Orlesian style, right down to the spa treatment with cheese facials.

“It’s a shame Alistair couldn’t be here,” Mahariel laughed. “He would have loved those.”

Zevran laughed heartily at the picture of the King of Ferelden with small cheeses on his eyes. “We must remember to bring him a basket of the finest cheeses we can find when we visit him.”

Anders looked around for Dorian, who he finally found in one of the side gardens, just as Mahariel and Zevran were reunited with Arl Teagan. Anders overheard part of the reunion as he made his way over to Dorian. “Teagan, what happened to you? The years have not been kind to you my friend,” Anders could hear Zevran say and the mage just chuckled.

“Dorian!” Anders cried out as he drew closer to the Altus. Then Anders noted that Dorian looked to be somewhat in shock. “Dorian? What’s wrong?”

Dorian looked at Anders and shook his head. “Anders. You’ll never believe it. I was just informed…Halward. He was assassinated. He’s…my father. He’s dead.”

Anders was about to let out a cheer of celebration but he noted that Dorian didn’t seem happy. “This is good news, isn’t it? You no longer have to fear him.”

Dorian shook his head. “That’s just it. The bastard never got around to officially disowning me. I’ve been given his seat in the Magisterium and they’ve summoned me back to Minrathous immediately upon the conclusion of the Exalted Council.”

“What about Hawke? Have you told him?” Anders asked.

“I only just received the news,” Dorian sighed. “I have no idea how he’s going to take this. I _must_ go back now. I will finally have the chance to make some real changes in Tevinter.”

“Hawke will not like that,” Fenris interjected. “But I’m sure he will understand.”

Dorian nodded. “I’m sure you’re right. Let’s go find him, shall we?”

When they found Hawke, he was hunched over in pain, the mark looking as if it had spread outward from his hand and up his arm.

“Amatus!” Dorian cried out. “Anders! Do something!”

Anders rushed over and immediately sent tendrils of healing into Hawke’s arm. After several minutes, Hawke seemed to relax.

“I’m sorry,” Anders apologized. “All I can do is help manage the pain. I can’t seem to reverse whatever this mark is doing to you.”

“It’s alright, you tried your best,” Hawke shrugged before straightening up and turning to Dorian. “No matter what happens, I wouldn't trade the time we've spent together for anything. _I love you_.”

Dorian stood stiffly and turned his back. “I _knew_ you would break my heart you _bloody_ bastard!”

“Dorian!” Hawke admonished as he walked up behind Dorian, wrapping his arms around his love. “Don’t be like that. Not now. _Please_.”

Dorian slumped into Hawke’s embrace. “I’m sorry, Amatus,” Dorian apologized. “How long has this been going on?”

“It started a few months ago, but it really only started getting this bad a couple of weeks ago,” Hawke explained.

Dorian turned. Kohl ran down his face, tracing where the tears he had just shed fell. “All this is going to make my news even more difficult to share.”

***

As expected Hawke was not pleased with Dorian’s news, but he reluctantly accepted it. If Dorian could help make improvements in Tevinter, then he needed to be given the chance to try.

In the meantime, the Exalted Council began with a very rough start. Hawke was pulled away early in order to investigate an attack against the Inquisition by Qunari forces.

Dorian insisted that he and Anders accompany Hawke and naturally Fenris joined as well. “Someone has to keep an eye on you fool mages.”

They spent days chasing the Qunari through the Eluvian network and discovered that the Qun were somehow convinced that the Inquisition were agents of Fen’Harel.

“Why in the world is the Qun worried about a dead elven god?” Anders asked as they took a quick rest. “None of this is making any sense.”

“Now I want to find Solas more than ever,” Hawke replied. “Not only to help with your research but to get some answers about all this. With all his knowledge of ancient elven culture, surely he’d have some idea of what might be going on here.”

“That Viddasala isn’t going to give up so easily,” Fenris said. “When the Qun set a plan in motion, they are rarely dissuaded from seeing it to its completion.”

***

When they finally caught up with the Viddasala they were all shocked to find Solas.

Hawke cried out to the wayward mage. “Solas!” Just as he walked forward towards the elf, Hawke was brought to his knees with another powerful surge from the Mark.

“Amatus!” Dorian cried out just as Solas approached Hawke. Anders held the Altus back. “Wait, let’s see what happens first.”

Solas’ eyes flashed brightly and the mark receded somewhat and Hawke breathed more easily, clearly not in pain any longer, so he stood to face his former companion.

“That should give us more time,” Solas said. “I suspect you have questions.”

“The Qunari believe you work as an agent for someone who has taken the name Fen’Harel,” Hawke said, more as a question than a statement.

“The Qunari reject myth and legend. If you told them of your meeting with Mythal, they would attribute it to a demon,” Solas said simply. “I am no one’s agent but my own. I fear the truth is much simpler, and much worse, than the Qunari believe.”

Suddenly a dawning realization crept over the entire group. “You’re Fen’Harel,” Hawke spoke aloud what they were all thinking.

“I was Solas first,” the elf explained. “’Fen’Harel came later…an insult I took as a badge of pride.”

Solas went on to explain his efforts to free his enslaved people from the power hungry former Elvhenan generals. He also told of how they had murdered his dear friend Mythal which led him to raise the Veil which destroyed Elvhenan and doomed the elvhen people, just to lock away the false gods. He then explained how he now planned to tear down the veil again, to destroy Thedas in order to return the elves to their former glory.

This time Fenris stepped forward. “Have you even asked us what we want? You keep interfering, and every time you seem to make things worse. Why can’t you leave well enough alone?”

“I cannot stand idly by and watch as our people continue to suffer,” Solas explained. “Especially when I am to blame for their suffering.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Hawke growled. “I will not allow you to…aahhh!!”

Hawke collapsed as the mark flared once again. This time Solas approached him and took the hand with mark in his own as his eyes flashed once again. “Anders,” Solas cried out. “His forearm needs to be removed, immediately. I have slowed down the spread of the mark but I can only hold it back for so long.”

Anders nodded and rushed forward, along with Dorian who settled himself behind Hawke, allowing the man to lean back against him.

Anders used his magic to sever bone and flesh, allowing the infected limb to fall away before he began to heal what remained of the arm, while doing as much as he could to soothe the pain. Hawke passed out in Dorian’s arms as the Altus held his love and wept.

Solas stood and began to make his way towards the Eluvian in silence. “Wait!” Anders cried out, running after Solas. “we still need your help.”

“There is nothing more I can do for him,” Solas apologized.

“No, not with Hawke,” Anders sighed. “Look, you know I was once possessed by a spirit of Justice. When he was drawn back into the Fade by the Saarebas collar, he took my taint with him, the taint that made me a Grey Warden.”

Solas turned around, intrigued. “Warden-Commander Mahariel and I came up with an idea, to use my spirit healing powers and use my command of spirits to draw the taint out of other Grey Wardens as well, effectively curing them. I’ve run into a wall with my research to develop the right spell and I need your help to complete it.”

“That won’t matter once I’ve pulled down the Veil,” Solas shrugged.

“Maybe you won’t,” Anders countered. “You were contemplating letting Hawke convince you of a better way. He’s going to need some time to recover from this. Until then, come help us. _Please_.”

Solas contemplated Anders’ plea. “Alright. I am intrigued by this problem. I will have my agents deliver an Eluvian to your clinic and I will meet you there to go over your findings and your spell so far.”

“Thank you,” Anders said.

“I may wish to speak with you further as well, if you will permit it,” Solas told Fenris. “Your past exemplifies all the suffering I have tried to save our people from. I would like to hear more of your perspective.”

Fenris inclined his head in acknowledgement.

***

When they finally made it back to the Exalted Council, Hawke was mostly back to himself. He took the loss of his forearm in stride, feeling grateful to still have his life.

Hawke chose to disband the Inquisition. While having all of those resources at his command had been useful, he felt that in order to deal with both the threat of the Qunari and whatever Solas was planning to unleash, he could work better with a smaller team.

Dorian delayed his return to Tevinter in order to help Hawke with the process of dismantling the Inquisition, while Anders, Fenris and Varric returned once again to Kirkwall. Mahariel and Zevran chose to travel on towards Denerim and give King Alistair a visit before returning to Kirkwall.

Anders hoped Solas would keep his promises, both to help with the cure for the Calling and to reconsider his actions here in Thedas before he destroyed everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end guys! Tomorrow's chapter will be the final chapter of the planned story, followed by an epilogue the day after. Thanks to everyone who came along on this rollercoaster ride with me so far.


	29. The Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas keeps his promise and helps Anders and Mahariel with their cure for the Calling.

**9:44-9:45 Dragon.**

By the time Anders returned to Kirkwall, the promised Eluvian had already been delivered to the clinic and now stood in the back of the laboratory. The mage took this as a good sign and hoped Solas would follow through.

In the meantime, Anders took the time to settle back into his daily routine, seeing patients who were in need of his Spirit Healing and spending the rest of the time in his lab.

The two Warden volunteers had proven to be very helpful around the clinic and they also provided extra security when the occasional boisterous drunk would come in.

With the Wardens there to provide security, Fenris felt Anders was safe enough without his presence and decided to take Aveline up on her offer to help train the City Guard.

Except in cases of emergency, Anders enjoyed spending his evenings with Fenris. After their latest round of adventures, it felt good to have time alone together again.

“Let’s not traipse after Hawke again the next time he calls,” Anders sighed, snuggling into Fenris’ arms after another round of amazing lovemaking. “I think I want to become a homebody.”

Fenris chuckled. “Says the mage who spent most of his life running away.”

“I wasn’t running away,” Anders objected. “I was running towards something.”

“What were you running towards then?” Fenris asked.

“Home,” Anders answered simply.

“So, you consider such a garish monstrosity home?” Fenris asked with a huff.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that, love,” Anders teased. The mage raised himself onto his elbows and looked down at the elf as his teasing expression became serious. “Home for me is right here, in your arms. I don’t care if we live in a fancy mansion in Hightown or a dirty hovel in Darktown. You’re my home.”

Fenris didn’t know what to say to that, but his eyes shone with emotion as Anders leaned down to kiss his elf tenderly. When their lips parted, Fenris caressed Anders’ cheek. “I love you, Amatus.”

***

One afternoon after Mahariel and Zevran had returned, Mahariel was working with Anders in the lab, when finally, the Eluvian came to life and Solas strode through it. Anders looked up from his work. “Well, it’s about time. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.”

“I was in doubt of that myself,” Solas replied. “However, your potential solution for the Calling continued to intrigue me.”

“Do you have a theory as to why Justice was able to remove the taint from me?” Anders asked, getting right to business.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Solas replied. “First I think you might need to understand a bit more about where the taint comes from, beyond the popular myths and legends.”

“It happened when those Tevinter Magisters, including Corypheus, breached the Veil and corrupted the Golden City, right?” Anders asked.

“Not entirely,” Solas said. “It’s always been the Black City, since I lifted the Veil. Before then it was better known as Arlathan.”

“I always suspected that could be the case,” Mahariel said. “Ever since I saw it when I was trapped in the Fade by that sloth demon. I stared at it for a length of time and I wondered if it couldn’t have been the Arlathan of old.”

“You are wiser than most of your kin,” Solas replied. “I made Arlathan a prison for the Evanuris, and then locked it away behind the Veil. I also placed a spell upon the city, designed to kill any of the followers of the Evanuris who might attempt to free them while I slept.”

“You never expected humans to acquire powerful enough magic to breach the Veil,” Anders suddenly understood. “Your spell had a different effect on them. Instead of killing them, it infected them with the taint.”

“Exactly,” Solas confirmed. “It drove them insane, driving them to procreate and find the Old Gods who slumbered beneath the ground.”

“So, the Darkspawn and the Blights are also your fault,” Fenris said as he entered the lab. “Glad to see you finally showed up. Anders was beginning to worry.”

“Yes, well, as I was explaining,” Solas continued with a glare at Fenris. “The taint is a direct result from the spell I placed over Arlathan. It was designed to only be harmful to those of us from outside of the Veil. It cannot harm spirits or demons. Which is why Justice was not tainted when he came into contact with you, and why he was able to extract it and take it with him back into the Fade.”

“What I’m not sure of, does a person need to be possessed by a spirit in order for it to be able to draw out the taint? Can they draw it out through me while still remaining in the Fade?” Anders asked.

“How was Fiona cured of the taint? Did she have any theories as to why she wasn’t able to rejoin the Wardens?” Mahariel asked.

“One moment, let me get Dorian,” Anders said. “He talked to her in depth.”

Anders fetched the sounding crystal and contacted the newly minted Magister. “Dorian! I hope I didn’t disturb you?”

 _“Nonsense, I always have time for my favorite Southern mage,”_ Dorian teased. _“How can I help you?”_

They caught Dorian up-to-speed with the conversation thus far. “So, we were hoping Fiona may have given you a clue as to how she may have been cured and why she couldn’t undertake the Joining again. Was she ever possessed by a spirit or came into contact with one?”

 _“She did tell me a story of being trapped in the Fade,”_ Dorian recalled. _“She only mentioned a demon that she encountered, but not any spirits.”_

“Technically a demon could also remove the taint,” Solas explained. “However, they would have less motivation to do so.”

 _“She also met that sentient Darkspawn,”_ Dorian continued. _“I believe he’s known as the Architect?”_

“She met the Architect?” Anders shuddered. “He was a creepy piece of work.”

“Who was this Architect?” Solas asked.

“He was a sentient Darkspawn,” Mahariel explained. “He was brilliant but also completely insane. I ended up having to kill him. The plans he had for the Grey Wardens were unspeakable.”

“Did he display any magical abilities?” Solas asked.

“Yes, he was an Emissary, so he was a Darkspawn mage,” Anders confirmed.

“So, either that demon somehow chose to remove the taint from her while she was trapped in the Fade,” Solas continued. “Or this Architect somehow managed to summon a spirit which cleansed her of the taint, perhaps as one of his experiments?”

Anders nodded. “Yes, it seems those are the two most likely ways she could have lost her taint based on our hypothesis.”

“So now that you’re all more aware of how the taint came to be in the first place,” Solas continued. “Show me the spell you’ve developed so far and where you’re currently stuck.”

***

Solas studied Anders’ spell while Anders explained his concerns regarding the amount of power required once the missing part of the spell was added.

Solas sighed. “I do wish you would be more open minded in regards to the use of blood magic. It is merely a means for powering spells. Long before lyrium was discovered, the Elvhen people always used blood to fuel their magic.”

“ _Oh, and don’t forget what we discovered_ ,” Dorian reminded them. “ _I believe I mentioned it, but it turns out that using lyrium is just another form of blood magic. Lyrium is the lifeblood of the Titans that sleep deep beneath Thedas_.”

“What?” Anders said in shock. “No, you didn’t tell me about that. I would certainly have remembered it. So, all these years, mages and Templars have been consuming…purified Titan blood?”

Anders shuddered at the thought and wondered if he’d be able to stomach another lyrium potion ever again.

Solas perked up at this information. “That explains so much. I had often wondered how a mineral from underneath Thedas could convey similar properties as our own life’s blood. The fact it’s just another form of blood solves that mystery for me.”

Solas began to make notes, and after some time handed Anders what he’d been writing.

Anders eyes flew open wide. “That’s it! That’s the missing part of the spell! And I see you’ve reworked the rest of the spell so it requires less power. This is brilliant! Thank you!”

“Do you have any Grey Wardens willing for us to try this spell on?” Solas asked.

“Yes, I do actually,” Anders said in a wary tone. “However, I will not do anything that could potentially harm them.”

“Understood,” Solas agreed. “I would require you take the lead. While my magic is undoubtedly stronger than yours, I do not have the affinity for healing that you do.”

 _“I do wish I could be on hand to observe this,”_ Dorian chimed in over the sounding crystal. _“Shall I remain connected or will it be awhile before you begin?”_

“I want to discuss with the two Wardens exactly what we plan to do, so it may take some time,” Anders explained. “I’ll call you back once we get some results.”

Wardens Aldren and Rubert were called in and Anders and Solas explained what they were going to try.

“We have developed a spell,” Anders explained. “This could potentially remove the taint and therefore cure you from ever hearing the Calling. However, there is always the potential in any untested spell that it could harm you.”

“Could it be lethal?” Warden Aldren asked.

“There is always a chance, especially when a spell has never been used before,” Anders replied honestly. “I won’t lie to you that it could kill you if we try it.”

Both Wardens looked at each other nervously.

“Are either of you prepared to try?” Solas asked Anders.

Warden Rubert stepped forward. “I’m the oldest and the closest to my Calling. I’ll take the risk. I’ll be dying soon regardless and I’m willing to sacrifice my life if it helps further your research.”

“Thank you,” Anders said gratefully. “I’m hoping a sacrifice will not be necessary, but I appreciate your willingness.”

Solas agreed. “There are always risks with using untested magic, but I can assure you that your efforts will not be in vain, regardless of the outcome.”

Anders nodded. “Let’s go into one of the private exam rooms.”

Once in the room, Warden Rupert removed his armor and lay on the table provided in the room.

“Tell me immediately if you feel any pain or discomfort,” Anders instructed as he stood on one side of the table. Solas stood on the other side to observe.

Anders reached out with his magic, weaving the spell slowly while seeking signs of the taint within Warden Rubert. Once he located it, he used the spell to guide the spirits who were drawn by his magic to help him remove the taint. The spirits reached out through Anders’ magic and began drawing the taint towards themselves.

Anders was feeling hopeful at this point, as the taint was slowly being removed from the Warden’s body. It took nearly an hour and once they were done Anders had completely exhausted his supply of Mana.

“Did it work?” Aldred asked.

Solas used his magic to scan for the taint. “Yes, I believe it did. I cannot find any trace of the taint in you anymore.”

“Thank the Maker!” Aldred said. “I never wanted to face up against an Archdemon anyhow, no offense Warden-Commander.”

“None taken,” Mahariel said. “Congratulations.”

“It worked?” Anders cried out in adulation and relief. “I can’t believe it actually worked!”

“Good job, Anders,” Mahariel praised. “You and Solas were the solution I’ve been looking for all along. I think once your Mana is restored Warden Aldren should be treated next and then I’d like to have this blighted tainted removed as well.”

“Zevran will be thrilled I’m sure,” Anders said, smiling.

“I’ll also need to send Alistair the news immediately,” Mahariel said, thinking aloud. “He was very excited that we may be close to a solution. I know he’ll want to come here and be treated as well.”

“What will Weisshaupt think about all this?” Anders asked.

“I honestly don’t care,” Mahariel shrugged. “I understand why the Wardens keep their secrets but this pilgrimage of self-sacrifice for Wardens has got to end. I think the maximum any Warden should be forced to serve is twenty years, after that they can have their taint removed and be allowed to live the rest of their lives in peace.”

“First, I’ll need to train other spirit healers on how to work the spell,” Anders agreed. “There aren’t many of us but I can’t do this all alone.”

“We ask Varric to put a call out for any spirit healers in Thedas to gather here,” Fenris suggested. “Perhaps you can lead Kirkwall’s first College of Magi and make spirit healing a specialization?”

Anders gave Fenris a hug. “That’s a wonderful idea, love!”

***

As expected, the Grey Warden leadership in Weisshaupt was not happy about the fact that a cure could be found for Grey Wardens, but they yielded with Warden-Commander Mahariel’s suggestion.

Grey Wardens would henceforth serve twenty years from the day of their Joining, after which they would be released from service and allowed to seek out a trained spirit healer to remove the taint from them. If for some reason they began to hear their Calling before their twenty years was complete, they would also be allowed to seek treatment and be released from service as well.

***

King Alistair came a few months later and was very grateful that the taint had finally been lifted from him. He had avoided getting married because he feared he would never be able to produce an heir. Now he had a new lease on life and decided perhaps it was time to seek a bride.

Anders did tell Alistair about his son, Kieran. “You would be very proud of him, Your Majesty. He is growing up to be a fine young lad.”

“You’re sure he didn’t look even the least bit demonic?” Alistair asked.

Anders and Fenris both confirmed that no, Kieran appeared to be just a normal, healthy young man. “We hope you meet him one day.”

Alistair sighed. “It’s probably for the best that I don’t. I’ve only had bad luck with trying to meet estranged family.”

***

Solas had remained for several weeks after Anders’ initial success. He spent many hours speaking with both Mahariel and Fenris, wanting their opinions regarding his plans and to argue with him as to why they thought it was a bad idea.

Finally, one day he decided to take his leave. “You have all given me much to think about. I believe perhaps what I need to do is return to my slumber. I will give the elves more time to come back into their own.”

With that Solas was gone and apparently no longer a threat. Now all they had to worry about was the potential invasion by the Qunari.

“We’ll let Hawke handle that one on his own,” Anders said one night as they gathered around the table for a game of Wicked Grace with Varric, Merrill, Mahariel and Zevran. “I’ve had quite enough adventuring.”

“As have we,” Mahariel agreed. “In fact, we need to tell you that we’re going to be moving along. I had thought of starting up a branch of Grey Wardens here, but now that I am officially released from my service, we’ve instead decided to head to Antiva. Ever since Zevran routed the Crows several years ago, it’s safe for him to return home.”

“Yes, I do miss my beautiful Antiva City,” Zevran said with a sigh. “I do believe _my Warden_ will love it there.”

“I’m not a Warden anymore, Zev,” Mahariel laughed at the old endearment.

“You will always be _my Warden_ , yes?” Zevran insisted and Mahariel nodded with another laugh.

“And you will always be _my mage_ ,” Fenris said, pulling Anders into a quick kiss.

“And you will always be my home,” Anders said smiling into the kiss. “After so many journeys, I am so glad I finally found one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for a happy, fluffy epilogue tomorrow!
> 
> Now Anders can happily grow old in peace with his beloved, grumpy elf. :)


	30. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirty-five years later, and Anders and Fenris take time to reminisce with old friends.

**9:80 Dragon.**

Anders shuffled over towards where Fenris stood, overlooking Kirkwall from the balcony they had added to the bedroom years before. The mage wrapped his arms around the elf and kissed him on his perpetually snowy white head.

“The sunset is beautiful tonight, isn’t it Amatus?” Fenris asked, as he hugged the arms wrapped around him.

“It would be better without that monstrosity in the way,” Anders said with a mock grumble.

The rebuilt Chantry that now loomed over Hightown was even more ostentatious than the one Hawke had destroyed all those years ago.

“You know Varric wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Fenris reminded him. “Even the Divine Victoria was speechless when she came to see it, do you remember?”

Anders laughed. “Yes, I do. I wonder how Leliana is doing? It’s been at least a decade since she’s come to visit last.”

Fenris shrugged. “Are you ready to go? You know how Dorian hates it when we’re late.”

Anders nodded and took Fenris’ hand as they made their way downstairs. Orana was sitting by the fire, darning some socks. “We’re on our way to dinner,” Anders said. “You know you don’t have to keep darning our socks. We have Dany for that now.”

“Oh, I know, but I like to keep my hands moving,” Orana explained with a smile. “Have a lovely evening and give my regards to Master Hawke.” Even after all these years, Orana still used that title for her former employer.

They made their way through Hightown to the Pavus-Hawke Estate, leaning on each other along the way. Dorian and Hawke split their time between Kirkwall and Minrathous these days. Whenever the Magisterium was not in session, they would use the Eluvian network to travel back to their home in Kirkwall.

After Hawke and his advisors helped to thwart the last big Qunari invasion, he remained at Dorian’s side, assisting in his efforts to reform Tevinter, along with just keeping his love safe.

Dorian made great strides in the past couple of decades and slavery was now officially outlawed in Tevinter. Instead the nobility had slowly transitioned to the use of paid servants. While the Magisters’ wealth was initially impacted by this change, the economy flourished like never before.

Now that all the former slaves were earning an income for themselves there was an entire influx of new consumers in Tevinter who needed everything from housing to fashionable clothing and many other goods in-between.

Once the Magisters realized this new windfall, they quickly capitalized on it, and overall life flourished even more in Tevinter.

Dorian’s newest cause was to change the governing body in Tevinter entirely, from being ruled by the Magisterium to something he called ‘the Grand Assembly,’ which would include representatives from every class in Tevinter, including the Liberati.

Naturally, many of the other Magisters strongly opposed this and several attempts had been made on Dorian’s life for just suggesting such a preposterous thing.

However, the current Archon took notice and not only approved of the idea, he fully endorsed it as well. It would probably take another decade or two to work all the kinks, but Tevinter might finally see some true equality at long last.

***

In the meantime, Kirkwall flourished under Viscount Varric. It not only became an important trade center, but because of Anders it was now home to the premiere College of Magi for spirit healing.

Grand Enchanter Fiona had visited many times after the College had been established and she and Anders became close friends. Anders had been at her side when she passed and she had confessed to him one of her greatest secrets; King Alistair was her son.

Anders had been greatly taken aback by that confession, but he chose to keep it in confidence. Telling Alistair after she had passed wouldn’t do anyone any good. Alistair didn’t need to mourn a mother he never knew.

Alistair had finally met his son, Kieran, when Morrigan relented and allowed her boy to meet his father. By all accounts Alistair was overjoyed and welcomed the lad with open arms. Ultimately the king never did find a wife, and so he named Kieran as his heir, much to Morrigan’s, and the Nobility’s, disapproval. However, as Kieran grew, he charmed both the nobility and the common people.

Alistair also decided to buck tradition once again when he chose to step down several years ago and allow Kieran to be crowned king. Alistair was no longer a young man and he decided to retire to Redcliffe to live out his remaining years in peace.

Morrigan had moved to Denerim and became Alistair’s arcane advisor, much as she had done for Empress Celine before the Inquisition. Rumor had it she had joined Alistair in Redcliffe after he chose to retire.

As for Varric, he had finally also retired a few years ago, handing the Viscount title to Bran’s son, Brandon. Varric never married and had no heirs, so it only seemed fitting.

After he retired, Varric moved back into his old suite at the Hanged Man and spent his days grousing at the patrons and writing his ever increasing volume of memoires.

***

As Anders and Fenris arrived at the Pavus-Hawke Estate, they were greeted by Hawke’s newest Mabari who barked at them happily.

“Hawke! It’s so good to see you, old friend,” Anders said as he hugged him. “What do the people of Tevinter make of your Mabari beast?”

“Who are you calling old?” Hawke huffed. “Your hair has gone completely grey, while mine is still a delightful salt-and-pepper. And they are all terrified of him, of course.”

Dorian came striding out, trying to disguise a limp. “Now what did you do to yourself?” Anders chided.

“Oh nothing, just my arthritis acting up,” Dorian lied.

“He tried to dip me at a dance last week,” Hawke confessed.

“I did not! You slipped!” Dorian huffed. “Please Anders, just help me?”

Anders shook his head and went about healing Dorian’s hip. “There, all better?”

“Ah yes, much, thank you!” Dorian smiled.

“You’re welcome,” Anders said. “So, when are you finally going to acknowledge your age and stop dyeing your hair? You do know you’re not fooling anyone at this point, right?”

“Never! I don’t plan on ever getting old!” Dorian said with his usual dramatic flair.

Varric arrived soon after and they had a pleasant evening reminiscing over their past adventures together.

“Oh, we do have some news,” Dorian announced. “I’ve decided to retire next year from the Magisterium. I think I’ve done my bit for Tevinter society and I’d like to enjoy my _golden years_. We plan to relocate to Kirkwall permanently then, although I do plan to keep my family’s summer estate for whenever I feel the need for balmier climes.”

“As you recall about five years ago,” Dorian continued. “I adopted my apprentice and named him my heir. He will take my seat in the Magisterium after I step down.”

“And don’t worry Varric,” Hawke said reassuringly. “His heir will not inherit our estate here in Kirkwall. That will be donated to the Kirkwall Historical Society. You can turn it into a museum.”

Varric laughed. “Yeah, I can see it now. Tour the home of the Champion of Kirkwall! The Herald of Andraste! The Inquisitor of the Second Inquisition!”

They all laughed at that.

Anders raised a glass then. “I’d like to propose a toast. To old friends who are more like family than our own families ever were.”

“Hear, hear!” Hawke cried.

“So, are you still teaching at the College of Magi?” Dorian inquired. “Or have you also retired?”

“They don’t really need me,” Anders shrugged. “However, I still stop by once or twice per week just to keep an eye on things. There seems to be more Spirit Healers in the newest generation of mages, so I try to be on hand in case they need my sage advice.”

“You mean when they want to hear of what it was like to live in the Circle, and all your daring escapes?” Varric teased.

Anders laughed. “Exactly!”

***

Later that night Anders and Fenris sat by the fireplace in their suite back at their estate. They were sharing a bottle of wine and were cuddled together on the couch.

“I’m heading to the College of Magi tomorrow,” Anders informed Fenris. “Several new spirit healers have enrolled, and a small contingent of Grey Wardens also arrived this week. I’ve been asked to give a brief lecture.”

“Perhaps I will accompany you,” Fenris said. “I can witness the great Anders give one of his famous lectures.”

Anders chuckled and leaned his head on the elf’s shoulder.

“I am so glad I met you, my love,” Anders said.

“What makes you say that all of a sudden?” Fenris asked.

“All the reminiscing we did tonight,” Anders explained. “It just made me think back on everything. Did I ever tell you that when we first met, you took my breath away? You must have been the most beautiful elf I’d ever seen. I think I may have fallen in love with you at first sight.”

“And you were yet another mage come to torment me,” Fenris teased.

“When did you know? How you felt about me?” Anders asked.

“Do you recall that time you had some stuffy merchant complaining of a cold in your old clinic?” Fenris recalled. “Then a small elven woman rushed in with her infant that had stopped breathing. You immediately turned your attention to the infant, without hesitation. You focused on the patient in most need. You didn’t judge based on status or race. When I saw that, that’s when my feelings for you began to change.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Anders said simply. “But I’m glad you were there to notice.”

“I still regret all the years we spent bickering,” Fenris sighed. “If we hadn’t been, you might never have been taken. I’m so glad you made your way back here.”

“I had to make my way back,” Anders smiled as he turned and looked at Fenris laying a hand over the elf’s heart. “This is where my home is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it folks! Thanks for coming along on this ride with me. I'm going to refocus my attention to my original novel and hope to get the last round of edits done soon so I can start looking for literary agents. Wish me luck!
> 
> I'm sure I'll get the itch to write a new Fan Fiction story though, so stay tuned!
> 
> Oh and I do have one more piece of commissioned art I am waiting on, so heads up for that!


	31. Artwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Art commission from lolbatty (http://lolbatty.tumblr.com/) for the ending scene in the story.


End file.
